Blind Faith: Slytherin's Heir
by xyvortex
Summary: Sequel to Blind Faith, Harry's second year at Hogwarts with new challenges. Something haunts the halls of the school, hunting down the halfbloods. Who is the Heir of Slytherin, and who will stop him?
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related materials are the property of J.K. Rowling. I own nothing.

Blind Faith: Slytherin's heir

Note: this is a sequel to Blind Faith. If you haven't read it, you'll be pretty lost.

Note #2: this is the unbeta'd version, this isn't the final cut of ch1

To all you reveiwers from BF1, here you go.

Chapter 1 – Bitter-sweet Summer

Morning had come to Surrey. The sun had barely made it above the trees, bathing the neighbourhood in golden light. Too early for most residents to be up and about, the streets were empty, save for two small boys jogging together.

Both looked to be eleven or twelve years old. They were dressed similarly in sweat clothes and trainers. The smaller of the two, a frail looking blond-haired child with watery blue eyes, ran with exaggerated, coltish movements that spoke of someone unused to such activity. The other boy, a raven-haired lad wearing sunglasses even in the morning's half-light, ran along side his partner with practised ease. His movements graceful and smooth. The only odd thing about him was how he kept one hand on the blonde's shoulder the whole time they ran. The boys went on a bit further until the the smaller one, his breath becoming more ragged by the moment, finally stumbled to a stop.

"I can't..." the blond gasped out plaintively. "I can't go on any more Harry. I cant keep up with you."

"It's alright Dudds," replied the dark haired boy easily. "You're still getting your strength back. Look how much further we've gotten today than just last week. If you keep getting better this quickly, you'll be outrunning me in no time. Now come on," Harry added. "We need to walk for a bit or we'll get stiff."

Harry took a narrow rod he'd been holding, and with a deft flick of the wrist, extended it into a long, thin white cane. As they began making their way back to thier house, Harry swung the cane back and forth in front of him, testing the path for unexpected obstacles. Had there been anyone up, they would have attracted attention and been on the receiving end of many stares, Harry really didn't mind though.

More often than not, his going anywhere brought stares from passers-by. Harry was blind. From the age of five, he had lived in darkness, a reward for trying to save his uncle from a burning car. Along with his lack of sight, Harry had a fine pattern of barely noticeable scars around his eyes. As for the eyes themselves, the corneas had scarred over, leaving his eyes a uniform dull gray where had once been brilliant green. He'd taken to wearing the sunglasses, not for himself, but because his gaze was enough to make many people uncomfortable. He'd always used his cane when outside his home, though until just lately, he hadn't needed it all that much. His magic had taken care of that.

Yes, Magic is real, and Harry a wizard. He'd found out about it a mere day before his eleventh birthday, though his magical 'inner eye' had been functional since he was nine. Harry could 'see' magic and the auras of living things. With special training from a man named Sal at Hogwarts, he'd gotten to the point that he could somewhat sense inanimate objects and his environment, though it wasn't very clear. Sal had told him that if he was diligent, he would never need his cane again, unfortunately, that was all changed by interference by Lucius Malfoy and Voldemort.

Voldemort had been a powerful wizard who'd been stripped of his body and a great portion of his power in an attempt to kill Harry when the boy had been only one year old. Most had thought the evil wizard dead or beyond the ability to recover his power. Voldemort had found his way to Hogwarts, however, in Harry's first year seeking the Philosopher's stone. With that, he could not only recover his body, but become essentially immortal.

Harry had found out about it and went to confront Voldemort. He was hampered, however, by a cursed pendant that he'd unwittingly received as a gift. It forced him to obey the Dark Lord's commands. Harry had overcome the pendant's hold when Voldemort had commanded him to kill one of his friends, but at a great cost. In the process, he'd damaged his own magical core, and his inner sight as well. Only in the past week had Harry begun to sense the swirling sparks of auras around him. His ability was still quite limited, but in no time, he expected that he'd be able to sense things as he had before.

Shortly, Harry and Dudley arrived on Privet Drive and made their way to number four. Coming up the front walk, Harry let his hand run lightly over the real estate sign stuck in the front lawn.

It still felt odd to be moving. This was the only place, other than Hogwarts, that he'd ever felt at home. Still, both Dudley and he would be attending Hogwarts this year and regardless of how old he looked, Dudds was still only five emotionally. Aunt Petunia had been adamant about being as close as possible to both of them. Between Professor's Snape and Dumbledore, they'd found and purchased a house just outside Hogsmeade.

He'd been to the Shrieking shack with Aunt Petunia and Dudley several times already, and even with the house only half re-done, it was truly impressive. No mere shack, it was close to a manor house in size, with six bedrooms, a library, dining room and a huge sitting room that could seat the entirety of any of the houses comfortably. If it hadn't been for the rumour of the house being haunted, Harry was sure someone would have bought it long ago. If things continued like his aunt said, they'd be moving in just before school started for the new term.

With renovations so near complete, Half of their belongings had already been packed in cardboard boxes for the move. It was into this mess that Harry and Dudley came as they returned from their run. Dudley, shouting a greeting to his mum, clattered up the stairs to get a shower while Harry, who'd barely broken a sweat, came into the kitchen to help prepare breakfast.

It felt good to him, here with Aunt Petunia, performing tasks they'd shared since he was little. In short order the house was filled by the smell of bangers frying in a skillet. Finished cleaning up and attracted by the aroma, Dudley came in freshly dressed and jumped into a chair, grinning with anticipation.

"Dudley," Petunia admonished lightly. "Get up and help Harry set the table."

"But mum," the blond moaned. "I'm hungry!"

"I know dear," his mother replied. "Set the table and we'll all be eating soon enough. You're old enough to help now and you've got to learn to do some things for yourself."

Dudley sulked a bit but did as his mother told him. In minutes, they were all tucked in around the table, enjoying their meal. Dudley, having completely forgotten to be mad, was carrying on about how far he'd gotten running that morning and how he'd only stopped to let Harry catch up. Smiling at his cousin's antics, Harry listened contentedly until they were interrupted by a tapping at the window.

Seeing an owl on the kitchen sill, Dudley let out an ecstatic yelp and leapt to let it in. Harry, on the other hand slumped a little bit, still feeling the pain of Hedwig's loss.

"They're our Hogwarts letters!" Dudley cried as he returned to the table, waving three envelopes. "And one for you too mum! It's from Severus."

The professor and Petunia had been carrying on regular correspondence since before Christmas last year. Harry was having a bit of difficulty dealing with his aunt's relationship, mostly because of the revelations that Snape had been a death eater in Voldemort's service at the same time his parents had been killed. Harry really wasn't sure how much the professor had been involved in it, if at all; it was his doubts that tormented him. He'd wanted to confront the Professor about it, but they were never alone long enough before the end of term for him to build up the nerve. Since summer holidays had started, Snape had yet to visit Privet drive, his letter to Petunia, though, came regularly.

Opening his letter, Harry ran a hand over the parchment, reading his book list for the new school year. He noticed that Defence required half a dozen books, all by somebody named Lockhart. Whoever he was, he had to be better than Professor Quirrell from last year. He hoped as much, if it wasn't for reading the book on his own time, Harry would have learned nothing in defence. Going over the book list again, however, he felt a little unsure. What kind of defence book would be titled _Magical Me_?

Further thoughts of school were interrupted , however, as Harry heard a faint popping noise from upstairs. It h ad been very quiet and neither Petunia or Dudley had noticed it, but Harry had.

It wasn't that his hearing was better than other peoples. The old wives tail about a blind person's other senses becoming more acute were just that. It was just that when you lose your sight, the other senses become so much more important, that you pay much more attention than you would have otherwise.

Excusing himself from the table, Harry made hi way up the stairs, searching ahead with his weakened senses. Something had appeared in his room, something very magical. Pulling his wand from the waistband of his sweats, Harry stepped into the room to find it already occupied by an unfamiliar house elf.

Harry was more than familiar with these magical creatures. They seemed to be everywhere at Hogwarts, staying to the shadows and doing all the necessary work that kept the school running. This one, like all the others he'd met, was short; standing no more than three feet tall, average for its kind. It sat on the edge of Harry's bed in a toga of sorts, made from an old pillowcase. Apparently unnoticed as of yet, Harry let out a strangled gasp when he heard the sound of thick pages being turned. The house elf was going through his parents photo album!

"Hey!" barked the raven-haired boy, startling the creature so much that it fell off the bed. "What are you doing with my things? Who are you?"

"Oh!" yelped the house elf as he banged h is head sharply against the floor. "Dobby is a bad house elf! He must punish himself for upsetting Harry Potter!"

Distracted by the rhythmic thumping of the creatures head, Harry reached out and took its shoulders. "Wait... Dobby – that's your name right? Stop doing that, and what are you doing in my room?"

"Oh, but Dobby must punish himself sir, it is a house elf's duty if he's offended his superior."

"Please Dobby, you have to stop," begged Harry, knowing the noise would soon attract his aunt. "You only startled me and you've punished yourself enough. Just come sit on the bed and tell me why you're here."

Far from calming, Harry's invitation seemed to go into hysterics. Grabbing the raven-haired boy about the knees, Dobby began heaving great sobs.

Struggling to keep his balance, Harry Said worriedly, "Dobby, please try to keep quiet... I'm sorry if I've offended you somehow."

"Offend?" squeaked the house elf in disbelief. "Sir, never has a wizard asked Dobby to sit – as an equal!"

Pulling the blubbering house elf over to the bed, Harry sat him down. Waves of adoration washed over the boy as he tried to calm Dobby. "You mustn't have met many decent wizards then," Harry said, dissembling.

Dobby shook his head, answering silently, but froze in horror as he realized what he'd just done. To Harry, the change that inexplicably came over the house elf was shocking. Dobby's aura, which had just settled down, exploded again in agitation. Leaping off the mattress, Dobby grabbed hold of the bedstead and began violently striking his head against it. Between hits, Harry could just make out the house elf's words as he punished himself.

"Oh..." -thwap- " Dobby almost..." -thwap- "said something," -thwap- "ill of his family!"

"Wait, stop!" Harry moaned desperately. "My aunt isn't comfortable with magical things. I dont want her to find you here and get upset." With a little urging, Harry got Dobby to sit again on the side of the bed and explain himself.

"I'm sorry sir, it's just that Dobby almost spoke ill of his family."

"Your family?"

"My wizarding family, sir. A house elf is bound to serve his house and family forever."

"They know you're here then?"

Blanching at Harry's question, Dobby moaned. "Oh, no sir. Dobby snuck out without his master's knowledge. He will have to punish himself most severely for doing so. If he were to find out..."

"Why don't you just leave, then."

"A house elf can only be set free by his master, sir. By presenting him with clothes. My master will never do this, Dobby will serve them till he dies."

"That's horrible," Harry whispered. "If there's anything I can do..."

Regretting his words even as he spoke them, Harry winced as the house elf's aura flared with gratitude and the creature threw itself at his feet and began kissing them. Unable to keep his balance, Harry fell backward onto the floor with a thump.

"Harry Potter wishes to help a house elf!" wailed Dobby. "Surely he is the most gracious of all wizards! Dobby has heard of your greatness sir, but never did Dobby expect such kindness from him."

"Harry!" came Petunia's voice from down the stairs. "Is everything alright? We heard noises."

"Everything's fine!" Harry called back. "I'm just going through my trunk." Turning back to Dobby, the raven-haired boy frowned and added quietly, "You need keep it down... remember – my aunt!"

"Of course, Harry Potter, sir." replied Dobby shakily. "It's just that things have improved so much for house elves since the defeat of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be Named. It is to you that we owe or thanks. There have been whispers that Harry Potter faced the Dark Lord again just weeks ago, and escaped yet again. He is brave and bold, we owe him so much. That is why, when Dobby heard the young master's concerns, he came to give a warning, Harry Potter must not attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year!"

Dobby's statement rocked Harry back on his heels. Not attend Hogwarts? He couldn't imagine it. The house elf's statement didn't frighten Harry, by any means. He'd faced down Voldemort himself, just weeks ago. "What are you talking about Dobby? What danger, and who told you this?"

The house elf was shaking violently as he struggled between loyalty to his family and his concern for the boy-who-lived. "Please, sir," moaned Dobby. "Dobby mustn't say how he found out. Just know that danger waits for all at Hogwarts. Dobby cannot say why this is true, but it is!"

Harry wanted to question the house elf more, but at that moment, he heard a shriek from his bedroom door. In all the excitement, he failed to hear Aunt Petunia's footsteps as she'd come up the stairs. Now her presence filled the doorway, and the sparks of her aura were a swirling mass of yellow and red. These sparks spoke of the anxiety and anger she was feeling at that moment.

"Harry!" she snapped, "what is that... thing? And what is it doing in our house?"

"It's a house elf, Aunt," explained Harry quickly. Turning towards Dobby, he directed his words at the house elf as much as his aunt. "He's here delivering a message. Now that's done, he's going to _leave_."

Put off by Harry's sharp tone, Dobby began to visibly tremble again. "But Harry Potter, sir. Dobby only wishes to keep you safe!" The house elf seemed to wilt visibly, realizing that he'd upset the boy. His ears drooping in dejection, Dobby heaved a sigh and said, "Dobby only wished to warn Harry Potter of the danger that waits him. Now he is upset with Dobby, so Dobby will leave." Snapping his fingers, the forlorn house elf vanished, leaving Harry alone with his aunt and a lot of questions to answer.

"What was all that about?" asked Petunia. "What danger was that thing talking about?" Dobby's words had obviously unsettled Harry's aunt, so he went about trying to calm her.

"Dobby is a house elf." Harry explained again, hoping that if she understood just what it was, Petunia would be less afraid of it. "They're magical creatures that live to serve wizards. Leading his aunt over to sit on the bed, he continued. "Most of them serve a specific family, though i know there are more than a few running around Hogwarts as well. From what Dobby said before you arrived, they owe me some kind of debt for stopping Voldemort. He's just being a little overprotective."

Aunt Petunia was clearly unconvinced by Harry's explanation, but held any further questions for later. "Harry... there's something else." At this, Petunia seemed to become a bit hesitant, as if she wasn't sure how to continue. "Severus... I mean Professor Snape, has he done something to upset you? In his last letter he said that he's written you twice with no answer and -" Her voice wavered a bit then. "He hasn't been over to visit since your school let out." Petunia let out a great sigh and admitted, "I've gotten used to him coming over fairly regularly. If not for yourself, then for me. Please work this out with him, whatever it is."

Grimacing uncomfortably, Harry answered, "Something happened at school the day Hedwig died. It wasn't Professor Snape's fault, but i guess I do need to talk with him. Have you sent your post back to him yet today?"

When Petunia said no, he nodded and thought a bit. "We're going to Diagon Alley tomorrow, ask him if he would meet me in the Leaky Cauldron. He and I can talk before we go in."

Harry's aunt broke into a beautiful smile that he couldn't see, but could sense from blocks away. Taking his shoulder, she started to lead him back out of the room, but stopped in the doorway. "Harry, why don't you grab your guitar. Dudders is fascinated by how well you play – I expect it's a matter of time before I'm buying him one, and you're teaching him to play." Grinning, Harry went over to the cupboard and picked up his guitar. He loved playing for his family, and the thought of spending a morning entertaining Dudley with his music sounded fun.

* * *

Many miles away, in Scotland, A castle lay hidden among the rolling hills. Deep under the castle was a dark room occupied by an ancient and beautiful mirror. Since the beginning of summer it had been gently swaying in a soft, constant breeze that seemed to have no source. Suddenly, and for no appearant reason, the breeze became much stronger and a swirling cloud formed in the air. Bolts of pure magical energy leapt from the mirror the cloud, Illuminating something writhing in its centre. With a final, thunderous crack, the mirror shattered like a bomb going off. Shards of glass ricochetted around the room. In the aftermath, a serpentine shape gathered itself on and inspected the surroundings.

At that moment, a door opened to allow four people to enter. There were two witches, and two wizards, all of them ageless, yet ancient. They stared down at the winged snake as it lay coiled, preening its feathers. After a few moments, she lifted her head to regard the newcomers. One of the Wizards, wearing a green and silver robe, stepped over and knelt down by the creature. Reaching out a hand, he smoothed the feathers on its head and said only three words.

"He needs you."

Without hesitation, the serpent leapt into the air and flew through the open door. Turning back to the others, Sal smirked at the wizard in red and gold robes "I told you. Now that's another fifty galleons you owe me, Ric." The red robed wizard just mumbled to him self grumpily as the two women, laughing uproariously, each took an arm and led him from the room. With a smug look on his face, Sal followed close behind.


	2. Mending Fences

Harry Potter and all related materials are property of J.K. Rowling. I, on the other hand am Elmer J. Fudd, Miwwionheir. I own a mansion and a yacht.

Blind Faith:Slytherin's Heir

Chapter 2: Mending Fences

Harry woke the next morning to a screech and the sound of shattering crockery. Galvanized by the noise, he threw himself out of bed. Unfortunately, half asleep and still wrapped in bedclothes, Harry found himself in a tangled heap on the floor boards. Tearing free he half crawled, half ran to the door. Cursing, he tried to remember any of the defence spells he had learned last term as he headed for the stairs.

Harry had just reached the top of the stairs, wand in hand, when he heard Dudley behind him. "What's going on?" the smaller boy asked.

:"Stay here Duds," Harry replied, trying to sound calm. Just then, they were interrupted by Petunia's voice, and she sounded nearly murderous, "Harry Potter!"

Heedless of what obstacles might be on the stairs, Harry leapt down them, two and three at a time. He'd just made it to the Kitchen doorway, when Harry heard a sound he never thought to hear again. Between the crash of broken pottery and Petunia's, quite predatory, growls, was the unmistakable sound of a snake snickering.

Heart hammering in his chest, Harry edged into the kitchen. Extending all his senses to the limit, the only thing he could make out with his inner eye was Aunt Petunia. There was something else though, something he could sense with his heart more than any of his senses.

"Hedwig," he breathed.

As if her name was a conjuration, the moment he whispered it, the Coatl crashed against Harry's chest, much like she had just weeks ago. Unlike then, however, she wasn't a limp form. Hedwig coiled excitedly around her master and slithered inside his shirt. Harry began to dance about wildly, caught between tears of joy and uncontrollable laughter caused by her feathers against his bare skin. A stamp of Aunt Petunia's foot, however, caused them both to freeze. Harry had a feeling that Hedwig had gotten them both into quite a bit of trouble.

"I thought you said that thing was gone!" snapped Harry's aunt sharply.

"She was," Harry replied as he lovingly stroked her feathers. "I thought she died – Oh, Hedwig, I'd of waited for you if I would have known." The Coatl, as if to assure Harry, that all was forgiven, began rubbing her snout against his cheek in a very cat-like way.

"Well, that's all fine and good," grumbled Petunia. "But your snake has made a horrible mess that will have to be cleaned up…" Petunia paused; looking at the two wrapped up in their reunion and heaved a mental sigh. "So take that beast upstairs and get your cousin ready. We have to be at the station in an hour to meet the early train. And no coming downstairs without your shoes until I say it's alright!" she called after him.

The moment Harry got back upstairs; he was grabbed by Dudley, who began rattling off all kinds of questions about what had happened downstairs. Harry began to explain, but was cut off by a squeal of delight from Dudley as Hedwig freed herself from his pyjama top and flicked her tongue in his direction.

Doing his best to answer all his cousin's questions, Harry got Dudley in and out of the bathroom in good time. Of late, Dudley had been able to handle most of his morning chores by himself. But with all the excitement, between Hedwig's return and their trip to Diagon Alley, Harry knew some supervision was needed.

Twenty minutes later, both boys came down dressed neatly with Hedwig draped invisibly over Harry's shoulders. When they arrived in the Kitchen, Petunia had cleaned up the mess and had a simple meal of tea and muffins before leaving for the station. At the front door, Petunia asked, "What about that little monster, Harry? I'm not leaving it alone to destroy my house."

"It's alright Aunt Petunia, "Harry reassured. "Hedwig's coming with us."

"And you think no one is going to notice a flying snake on the train? Where is it anyway?"

"Right here," answered Harry as he patted her feathers. Petunia yelped when Hedwig chose that moment to become visible as she perched on Harry's shoulders.

"Saints preserve us!" she moaned. "Now I have to worry where that thing is every second of the day? It could kill us all in our sleep!"

"Oh Aunt Petunia, she won't hurt you." Harry said dismissively.

"Not unless you ask, my master," came Hedwig's silky and amused reply in his ear.

"You're not helping," Harry only half admonished his pet under Petunia's disapproving gaze. Harry was so wrapped up in Hedwig and Petunia in locking the house; they didn't notice the shocked expression on Dudley's face as he stared at the Coatl.

With only a little more fussing from Petunia, they walked to the station. There were a few called greetings from some of the neighbours. Mr. Evers, he lived a few doors down, was a teacher at the local elementary school. He'd donated some of his time coaching Dudley over the winter in bringing his reading skills up. Later they passed Mrs Figg. A friendly old woman that smelled of cats, and also radiated magic, Harry realized for the first time. Harry made plans to visit her at least once before they moved, to find out if she was a witch.

When they arrived at the station and got their tickets, Dudley led them on the train and dragged them from one seat to another until he found just the right ones. When the train pulled out of the station, Harry settled back to enjoy the ride. Harry loved the train. The constant motion and clacking of the wheels was soothing. Dudley, on the other hand, was everywhere. Any new experience, to him, was a great adventure. He bounded Between Petunia and Harry, describing everything he saw and petting an invisible and infinitely patient Hedwig.

It was only as they neared their stop in London that Harry started to feel uneasy. The meeting with Professor Snape in the Leaky Cauldron was only minutes away and it was tying his stomach in knots. Harry knew he'd have to confront the professor eventually, but it didn't mean he was looking forward to it. After arriving at the station, the three made their way toward the wizard's pub.

Passing through the front door was like entering another world. Magic washed over Harry's weakened senses like a low wave. Luxuriating in the feeling for a bit, he barely noticed his aunt and cousin's gasps. He knew they would be seeing a pub that looked as if it were pulled from a hundred years before, with most of the patrons looking quite scraggly. Not all of them, however, were completely human. Harry could sense a goblin, likely from Gringotts, sitting on a high stool at the bar, and a house elf meekly standing by beside the table of its master. What he didn't appreciate, was the reception he got when people realized who he was.

"Harry Potter!" came a voice from behind the bar. "It's an honour to see you again!"

Out from the shadows, Tom, the toothless bartender came around the bar and took Harry's hand. "Would the young master like me to show him too a booth?"

"It's really not necessary-yeaiiii!" Harry yelped as he was nearly pulled off his feet by the barkeep as they made for an empty booth. Petunia, trailing behind, barely had time to move, before Tom had helped a humiliated Harry sit down at the table. The entire pub had gone silent, watching the little scene and Harry decided that he'd rather the whole thing die down, rather than argue.

"This yer family then, Harry," asked Tom as Petunia and Dudley sat down. Unseen by anybody, Hedwig had stretched herself out from the back of Harry's collar and was resting partly on his head with her wings half spread for balance. Waiting for the old barkeep to try and touch Harry again.

"This is my aunt and cousin," Harry explained. "Could you get us a couple butterbeers and some hot tea please? Two cups if you would, we'll be expecting somebody else in a bit."

"When Tom went for their drinks, Harry cast out his senses for Professor Snape. He searched for several moments and was about to give up when he felt the potion-master's presence across the room. He almost hadn't spotted it; the professor's mental shields were clamped down so tightly, that it was even dampening his magical signature. Excusing himself, Harry went over to the professor's table.

Harry stood silently, waiting for Professor Snape to acknowledge him. Snape, sounding a bit nervous, was quick to oblige.

"Take a seat, Mr. Potter."

Harry paused for a brief moment before sitting. While their relationship had been strained as of late, Severus had been calling him Harry since the Christmas Holidays. It felt odd for Snape to be so formal when they were essentially alone. Grudgingly, the boy sat down and waited while Severus erected several privacy spells around them.

"So," Snape said when he'd finished. "Here we are…"

"Right," returned Harry uncomfortably.

"You've been shutting me out since our confrontation with Quirrell," the potions-master began carefully. "If it's because of Hedwig, you have to know there was noting I could do to save her."

Shaking his head, Harry answered, "You know what this is about," he said in an accusing tone. "You were working for Voldemort before he disappeared the first time. You were working for him the night my parents were killed, weren't you."

Severus rocked back in his chair as if he'd been slapped. Struggling to gather his thoughts, he started, "Harry…"

"Just tell me!" the boy cried. Hedwig, still invisible coiled herself on the table before the Harry in a ready stance, her jaws half open to shoot venom.

Sitting for a moment to collect himself, Snape heaved a sigh and said, "Alright, but you have to promise not to interrupt until I've finished." At Harry's nod, he continued. "Firstly, I was working for the Dark Lord then." Snape held up a hand and begged, "Please let me finish before you condemn me. Neither of them noticed a drop of clear fluid drop to the table between them and begin eating through the wood. "I did work for him, but not as you'd expect."

"For as far back as I can remember, I'd always been told that there were two kinds of wizards, those who were of pureblood descent and those who were not. Raised in a pureblood household, I was always taught that we were better than the half bloods. I never met one until I entered Hogwarts. My time there as a student was – tumultuous and by the time I graduated, I was full of anger towards just about everyone. It was then that Lucius Malfoy came and offered a release."

Snape took a sip of his drink, from the smell, it certainly wasn't butterbeer, before continuing. Harry, on the other hand, was dreading the rest of the story. Everything Severus had said so far made him think that the potions-master must have had some hand in h is parent's death. Clearing his throat, Snape continued his story.

"I was young, stupid, and full of ideals that didn't reflect real life. At the time, the Dark Lord hadn't begun full scale raids on half bloods or muggles so I had no doubts when I joined. The power and satisfaction he promised was like a drug to my system. It wasn't until my first raid that I understood what I was in danger of becoming.

"It was a small muggle village; we were supposedly going to give them a good scare. In retrospect, I expect we did, but it went much further than that. The moment we arrived, the others began casting unforgivables; these were dark spells so terrible, that to cast any one of them was an automatic life sentence to Azkaban prison. I watched as the Dark Lord tortured a girl, not much older than you are now, until she went insane. He killed her right in front of her parents, before finishing them as well. I knew then that I'd made a foolish, possibly fatal mistake. I couldn't see, however a way out of it on my own."

"Dumbledore," reasoned Harry.

Nodding, Snape agreed, "Dumbledore. He was the only person I could think of that wouldn't have judged me on the spot. He agreed to help me, but at a price. I became a spy for him, reporting everything I saw in the deatheater ranks and reporting it back to him. It was then that I was hired on as the potions professor at Hogwarts. Between the headmaster and I, we had the Dark Lord believing that the idea had been entirely his. As a double agent, I supplied information to the order and false information to the Dark Lord."

"And my parents?" Harry asked. "Why did he kill them?"

"First," Snape began, "We all knew that your parents were targets, but I didn't know about the raid on their house in Godric's Hollow until after it was over. We thought they were safe. Their house was under the Fidelius charm; unbeknownst to us, however, the Dark Lord got hold of him and extracted their location.

I want to be honest with you, Harry. Your father and I didn't get along. There was too much – history between us. But I swear to you on my magic and my very life, I did not betray you or your family, not that night and not ever"

Harry breathed a little sigh of relief. All through Severus' explanation, he'd been observing the professor's aura. Even with Snape's defences and Harry's weakened senses, he could tell that Snape was being genuine.

"I believe you," Harry said at last. "And I'm sorry I've been avoiding you for so long. It's just there's so much I don't know about my parent's deaths and why I was spared." Harry seemed lost in thought for several minutes before he spoke ever so quietly, "He wanted me to join him, you know."

"What?"

"Voldemort," Harry supplied. "He called the headmaster a fool for underestimating me and asked me to join him."

"Obviously you said no," came Severus' dry response.

"Of course, the man killed my parents. It got me thinking, though. There had to be something about me that Voldemort and even Mr. Malfoy sees that Professor Dumbledore doesn't.

"He used to," Snape mumbled lamely.

"What?"

"You remember what I said before about a prophecy?" Severus asked.

"Yes, but…"

"The way it's worded, you could the child prophesized to end the Dark Lord's reign forever. The full text of it is recorded in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic. Nobody knows the entirety of it except the seer that said it and Albus Dumbledore. From the Dark Lord's network of spies, we know the opening verses and it is as thus:

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…

Born to those who have thrice defied him, Born as the seventh month dies...

"This was all that could be discovered about it before Dumbledore could put up a silencing charm," Severus explained.

"Born as the seventh month dies… July 31st, my birthday."

"And Neville Longbottom's as well," Answered Snape. "His Parents were aurors as well, and had faced the Dark Lord on several occasions."

"It could have been either of us," Harry Breathed.

"Yes," agreed the potions-master, "Except when the Dark Lord came after you, he was defeated, by you. At that point, Dumbledore was sure that the prophecy pointed to you alone. It was only after your car accident, that he began to doubt your ability to defeat the Dark Lord. Apparently, in his opinion, you are helpless without your sight."

"But that's stupid!

"On this point, both you and I totally agree, even without the knowledge of your special sense, you've proven to be highly intelligent and to have an incredibly huge magical potential. The fact is the old man is blinded by the possibility that if you are the child of prophecy, his negligence in placing you with Petunia may have doomed the wizarding world."

"So he's making Neville fit the prophecy and hoping that it will work?"

Inclining his head, Severus answered, "Yes, and for all we know it may be what the prophecy demands. There is no way to tell without knowing it in full. Even then, its interpretation is purely subjective."

"Then you think I'm not the prophecy child?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Actually after last term, I've quite decided you are."

"So why haven't you told Dumbledore about my second sight?"

Unable to meet Harry's sightless gaze, Severus stared at his drink for a time before continuing. "You've seen how Dumbledore treats Longbottom, do you know why?"

"I know he tells Neville lots of stories about his parents when they were aurors." Harry answered thoughtfully. "He tends let him bend the rules a bit more than most people."

"It's more than that," murmured Snape. "Do you really think that the Dark Lord could infiltrate Hogwarts, with all its protections and the headmaster not is aware?"

Horrified by what the potions-master was implying, Harry shook his head silently.

"That's not to say that Dumbledore let him in, but I think he may have positioned things so Longbottom could intervene at the proper moment. Last year may have quite possibly have been a test that, thanks to you, Neville passed resoundingly. That, along with that damnable cloak he gave him for Christmas and the extra tutoring Longbottom will be receiving this term… The headmaster is moulding the boy into a weapon against the Dark lord, regardless to any dangers that may be present."

"He was going to do that with me, wasn't he?" Harry asked quietly.

"Yes. Your accident, in taking your normal sight, may have saved you from losing your childhood. He will do what he deems necessary to prepare Neville to face Voldemort one day,"

"Why didn't you tell him about my gifts and potential?"

"This time last year, even up to Christmas Holidays, I would have." answered Snape. "The fact is I have grown to respect you and your maturity more than I do many adults. While I do owe Dumbledore a great deal, taking your childhood away from you won't help. A wise man once told me that one must remember what they are fighting for, or the cause is already lost. As to you preparing for the Dark Lord, I think between you, I and your special tutors at Hogwarts, we'll have you ready if necessary. In the mean time, you will able to avoid the old man's machinations for a bit longer."

"Right then," Harry said, rubbing his temples. "Maybe we can hold off telling him then. If it's alright, I have a favour to ask… two really."

With an arched eyebrow, Severus asked, "What?"

"Well, Hermione gave me a book last term about past wizards that were blind. In it there was mention of a spell called _Animadvirto de sanus_ (sight from sound). The only thing is that there were no wand movements or anything about the spells limitations."

Surprised, Severus asked, "And why would you even be interested, Harry? Your second sight would be clearer and less easily confused."

Nodding, Harry agreed, "You're right. But I don't want people knowing about that ability yet and… well I… wanttotryoutforQuidditchthisyear."

"You what?"

"I wanted to try out for Quidditch this year. Draco took me flying last spring and it was incredible. I want to be able to do it all the time."

"So there is a bit of your father in you after all," Severus said with an amused snort. "Very well, I'll see what I can find out about your spell. You know, Harry, you let the hat sort you into the wrong house, you'd have done well in Slytherin."

"So I've been told." Harry returned with a smirk.

"You said there was another favour?"

"Yes," answered Harry a little less confidently. "It's more for Aunt Petunia. Do you think you'd be able to start coming by the house again? She's been beside herself all summer."

"She misses me?" Snape asked in an almost unbelieving tone.

"A lot, though you'd never get her to admit it. She cornered me yesterday and kind of pushed me into meeting you today."

Smirking to himself, Severus muttered, "That woman can certainly get her way when she wants."

"You have no idea," returned Harry with a cheeky grin."

Banishing the privacy spells around the booth, Severus stood, smoothed his robes and waited for Harry to join him. "Let's go join your family, then, shall we?" They both wandered back to the table where his aunt and Dudley were waiting. Petunia was sipping at her tea, and seeing their approach, poured another cup for Professor Snape. Dudley, enamoured with his butterbeer, jumped up at the sight of his cousin.

"Harry!" he called. "Have you tried this? It's great!"

Harry, however, was having a hard time paying attention to his cousin. Hedwig, who'd just landed back on Harry's shoulders from her perch on the other table, darted inside Harry's shirt and began exploring all over again. With a forked tongue and thousands of feathers moving about the most sensitive parts of his torso, Harry could barely keep a straight face. Every few seconds he would twitch or jerk in some odd direction with a strangled gasp.

"Everything alright, Harry?" asked Petunia with a peculiar gleam in her eye. From the tone of her voice, Harry was sure she knew what was going on, and was taking some pleasure in his antics.

"FINE!" Harry answered in a too-high voice. Looking for some escape from the audience he was attracting in the pub, he blurted, "Why don't you and profe-eEe-ssor Snape talk a bit, and I'll show Dudley Diagon Alley?"

The amusement left both Petunia's eyes and aura immediately, to be replaced by worry. "I don't know…" she started.

"It's alright, Aunt," Harry soothed. "Now Hedwig's back, she'll protect us."

"What do you mean, she's back?" Severus asked.

The Coatl chose that moment to stick her now-visible head out of Harry's collar and stare at the potions-master. His gasp told Harry that he had seen her.

"So can we?" Harry asked plaintively, sounding a bit like Dudley when whining for something.

"Hedwig is more than capable of protecting them, Petunia," Severus assured. "Let them go explore."

Alright," conceded Petunia, outnumbered and wanting to have time alone with Severus. "But only for an hour. We'll meet you at…"

"Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour," supplied Snape.

"Right then," Petunia sighted. "Harry…"

"He won't be out of my sight." Harry interrupted with a grin.

"Ha-Ha" his aunt snorted. "Just be careful."

"They'll be alright Petunia," Snape soothed as the boys moved away. "Harry had an amazing ability to take care of himself."

"I guess you're right," she relented. "It's not like the boy goes looking for trouble."

Petunia spent the next couple minutes slapping Severus' back as he recovered from choking on his tea.

Two small boys stood in the rear courtyard of the pub. It was close and dingy with trashcans piled haphazardly along its sides.

"This is it?" asked Dudley disbelievingly. "Not much to look at, is it?"

Smiling, Harry answered, "This is nothing… Here, take my wand."

Excited, as he'd never been allowed to touch it before, the blond took the proffered wand. "It feels all tingly," he whispered in wonder.

Harry, feeling along the wall, grinned as he felt the outlines of several bricks. "Come here Duds, I want you to use the wand and tap these bricks… here, here, and here"

Doing just as Harry said, Dudley gaped at the wall as it shifted about and opened to display something out of a dream.

In his best imitation of Hagrid, Harry announced, "Welcome to Diagon Alley Dudley… And close your mouth or a fly will land in it."

* * *

Thanks for all the wonderful reviews, before i answer any questions, let me thank eveerybody that did bother to review... i live for these...they make me write faster (hint)

Thanks: shazia)riavera, Len87, OniLion, Heather, Daybreaq, pong, Hakkai's Lady, lordsjp, Master Elora Dannan, KimmyStar, MrMistoffelees, smileyface3, Draco'sLovergirlever, starangel2106, japanese-jew, azntgr01, Bukama Stealth, Evergren Sceptre, Prd2bAmerican18, Thor-uk-2000, HectateDeMort, AquaMage, Windy River, elfina, Silvergirl.

Now, yes, Hedwig is very much BACK... call off the hit-man ok?

Bukama Stealth, Harry hasn't moved into the shrieking shack yet, I'm thinking of having Petunia ride the trian to hogwarts (seperate compartment) when the boys go to school.

Evergreen, you'll learn more about just what the founders are now in this story. As to Dudley's attitude, he's still emotionally a small child and is only beginning to grow up.

Aqua Mage: There's actually a small shake-up coming with the merlin's crest house;. I was going to have it in ch1 with the arrival of his school letter, but events played out a little differently (i forgot lol) so look for an announcement at the start of term banquet.

Daybreaq: No problem. and if you can get somebody to look at my fics on the writers workshop, I'd be grateful. I need to beta these chapters, i haven't been able to get a hold of my regular beta.

mrmistoffelees: Harry hasn't regained the sensitivity he had before, and is actually more happy the way it is. he isn't as overwhelmed by powerful magic.

oik kiddies, just a warning, I plan to keep writing, but life may pull me away from posting for an undetermined amount of time next week, then again , it may not. dont think i've given up on any of my stories, I'll update when I can.


	3. Exploring the Alley

Blind Faith: Slytherin's Heir

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related materials are property of J.K. Rowling. I, on the other hand am Elmer J. Fudd, Miwwionheir. I own a mansion and a yacht.

Chapter 3 Exploring the Alley

"Welcome to Diagon Alley, Dudley – oh and close your mouth or a fly will land in it."

Harry let his own senses take in their surroundings as Dudley gaped in wonder. There was no place in the world quite like Diagon Alley. From the nearby Apothecary, Harry could catch the scent of exotic spices and potions ingredients. From another shop, Harry could hear a multitude of creatures chirping, mewling, and in a hundred other ways, calling out for a new master. Closer, he could hear children, both young and old, talking excitedly about the Nimbus 2001, the newest racing broom as they gathered in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Above everything else, however, was the magic. Harry basked in it as waves of sparks flowed around him like a thing alive.

It h ad been several weeks since Harry's inner eye had ceased to function, and only a few days since it had begun to return. Through his weakened sight, Harry was able to view the Alley for the first time without the pain that had assaulted him the year before. He could have stood there the whole day, basking in its glow, but Hedwig, bored with being in one place so long, flipped her tongue on the back of his ear.

Right girl," Harry responded to her touch with a grin. He understood Hedwig's excitement, there were so many places to explore here, and they needed to get started.

"Come on Duds," he said to his cousin. "We're blocking the entrance." The two boys started their exploration of the alley, though to begin with, they made little progress. Dudley seemed more interested in trying to stare in every direction at once than in trying to get anywhere in particular. Their progress was slowed even more, when people began recognizing Harry for who he was.

"Oh my stars!" exclaimed a blond witch with an American accent as she dragged a dark haired man, who's aura marked him as a muggle, behind her. "Darren, look, it's Harry Potter." Darren, his aura putting off waves of discomfort that mirrored how Harry felt, nodded jerkily at the boys. Not wanting to linger, Harry pulled Dudley with him as they tried to separate from the Americans.

"Wait," the witch called after them. "We'll help you find your way around."

"No, really," Harry called back as he and Dudley hustled away. "I've got my cousin with me; we'll be fine, thanks."

"But Harry – "interrupted Dudley uncertainly.

"Quite alright, Thanks, Bye!" Harry continued as he pulled his cousin through the nearest door. Too many people were gawking; he could feel their attention on him. Inside the shop they'd entered, the air was filled with the musky scent of a variety of animals, as well as their cries.

"The menagerie," sighed Harry with relief. "This was where he'd found Hedwig the previous year. "Come on Duds, let's find you a pet." He was unable to see Dudley's eyes light up, but the other boy's aura fairly crackled with excitement.

Overwhelmed by the vast selection before him, Dudley darted from cage to cage, unable to decide what he wanted. "There's so many," he moaned. "How do I choose?"

Following his frail cousin about, Harry answered, "Just wander around. Hedwig found me last year all by herself. When you find the right pet, you'll know it."

True to Harry's word, Dudley found himself pulled over to the section of the shop that swarmed with cats. As the smaller boy was searching for one he liked, Harry was distracted by a squeaky and very faint cry for help.

Climbing among the stacked cages, he followed the sound to one that was near the floor. Kneeling down, he noticed that the cage felt as if it had partially collapsed under the weight of the cages above it. Inside was the aura of a very tiny animal. Fighting with the warped door, Harry eventually got it open and pulled the tiny creature from its prison.

Using his senses, Harry determined that the creature was barely longer than the palm of his hand. It was almost serpentine, with long neck and tail, yet it had four legs and two tiny wings. Its magical aura was impressive for such a small animal, and it flared slightly when Harry touched it.

"What is that?" asked Dudley in wonder as he came up to his cousin. The smaller boy held a tiny ball of fur in his hands that purred constantly.

"I'm not sure," answered Harry, its glow is beautiful though. What you got there? Is it a puffball?"

"A what?"

"A Puffball, it's another name for Puffskeins. They're little balls of fur that purr all the time."

"Shaking his head with a snicker, Dudley replied, "No, silly, it's a cat! I was sitting with a bunch of them and he just crawled up on my lap.

The little creature in Harry's hand, annoyed that attention had been pulled from it, chose that moment to bite one of Harry's fingers. Hissing in pain, Harry had to stop himself from squashing the rude little beast reflexively. Seemingly unperturbed by the boy's pain, the creature began licking the wound with its tiny tongue.

"I see you've done it again Mr. Potter," someone commented from behind them. Harry recognised the voice as that of John Clayton, the man who ran the Menagerie for its owner.

"What's that, sir?" Harry asked

"You've found another rare pet," answered the shopkeeper. "Keep this up and you'll own your own shop soon."

"I'm not buying him, though," Harry tried to explain. "He was just trapped in a half-squashed cage, and I got him out."

"He's also tasted your blood, Harry," the man explained. "That's a North American Mini-Dragon. Once you've bonded with him, he'll never take another master."

"But I didn't – "Trailing off, Harry turned his senses back to the little creature. Its aura was still strong. It was stronger, in fact than it had before. Now, however, it had changed so that it more closely matched Harry's own.

"When it tasted your blood, it put a little of its own in your wound," explained Mr. Clayton. "You're really lucky to find one this young. He hasn't even developed his poison sacs yet."

"Does he breathe fire?" asked Dudley excitedly.

"No," Clayton laughed at the boy's glee. "It will have a poisonous bite.

"What are you going to call him, Harry?" asked Dudley curiously.

"I've no idea. I never planned to get a pet when we left today. I don't even know what Hedwig thinks of him yet." At the mention of the Coatl's name, Hedwig opened a lazy eye, but didn't move from her perch on Harry's shoulders. "What are you going to call your cat?"

"Tribble."

"Where did you come up with a name like that?" Harry asked.

"It's from a show on the Telly. They're just like you said, big lumps of fur that only purr. That's what he's pretending to be."

"Fine then," Harry said as he turned back to Clayton. "How much for the lot?"

"Including cages and supplies for both animals, the total will come to just over sixty-five galleons.

Harry nearly choked at the high cost for such a small creature. Hagrid had paid not even half that for Hedwig last year. Counting out the coins, Harry grumbled as he realized that he'd nearly exhausted his supply from his trip to Gringotts last year. With cages and supplies in their pockets, conveniently shrunk by Mr. Clayton, the two boys set off for Gringotts for more money. Tigger rode in Dudley's arms, still sleeping soundly. The Mini-dragon, however, had climbed up Harry's sleeve and hidden itself behind his right ear. It was so small that everything fit there and it was practically invisible, except for two tiny, ruby eyes that peeked over the top of Harry's ear.

"So what _are_ you going to name him?" asked Dudley

"I'm not sure yet," answered Harry. "Hedwig's name just came to me, I'll have to wait and see what's right."

Dudley looked a bit put off by the goblins, once they'd entered the wizarding bank. He was thrilled with the ride to Harry's vault, however, and asked Griphook excitedly if they could go again at the end. Harry had gotten another hundred galleons from his parents vault, and it looked no emptier than it had the previous year.

"Excuse me, Griphook?" Harry asked. "Do you know how much is in my vault?"

Without changing expression, the goblin recited as if rehearsed, "Mr. Harry Potter has a standing four thousand Galleons in his trust vault. It is refilled annually as it is used for school needs until Mr. Potter becomes of age."

"There's another vault then?"

"The Potter family vault is off limits to Mr. Harry Potter until he becomes of age. Any questions about it must be handled through Mr. Harry Potter's guardian."

Tucking that piece of information in the back of his mind, Harry and Dudley left Gringotts to continue exploring. Turning left, Harry told Dudley to stay close as he led his cousin down a flight of steps and into Knockturn Alley. He'd heard people talk about this place at school, it was supposed to be dangerous if you didn't keep your wits about you, but it also had things you couldn't find anywhere else.

Harry wasn't that worried, however, Draco had told him the key to getting through such places.

"It's all in the presentation," Draco had told him as they sat together in the Merlin Common Room the previous term. "My father does it all the time. If you act like you're in control and show no fear, most people will back off and give you space."

It was with that outward confidence that Harry moved through the dark alleyway as if he owned it. He seemed oblivious to the attention they were attracting, as well as Dudley's palpable fear. As Malfoy Jr had said, most people gave them a wide berth, those that didn't found themselves facing a rather irate Coatl.

Harry was hardly as confident as he portrayed himself, however. No longer able to feel the sun on his face, Harry felt like he'd entered some long, dark tunnel. Dudley was also feeling unease as he gripped his cousin's sleeve tightly.

"I don't like this place, Harry," he moaned through clenched teeth.

":Let's get off the street," the raven haired boy replied. Feeling along the building they were in front of, Harry soon came to a door. Magical letters flashed before his second sight and proclaimed it as Borgin and Burkes. Slipping inside, the boys found themselves surrounded by all manner of magical items. There were books, gadgets, daggers, and even a mummified hand, all piled haphazardly on shelves. Harry, intrigued by what books he might find, had begun running his hands over their spines when he heard adult voices approaching from a room in the back of the shop.

Grabbing Dudley tight against him, Harry whispered a command to Hedwig, who wrapped her coils about both of them and they all vanished. One of the Coatl's more useful abilities was the power to turn herself, and those she touches, invisible. Harry put his lips to Dudley's ear and cautioned quiet as the unknown wizards entered the front room.

"– a new muggle protection act. Then there's that flea-bitten, blood traitor, Arthur Weasley. He and his cohorts have been staging raids everywhere looking for illegal artefacts."

"Everything _has_ become more difficult since the events at Hogwarts last spring," returned the shopkeeper. "They say someone tried to steal a valuable artefact from Dumbledore himself."

Harry nearly gasped when he could hear them more clearly. The shopkeeper's voice meant nothing to him, but the other…"

Harry had met Lucius Malfoy briefly at Kings Cross Station just weeks before. They hadn't said much to each other; however, his placing the twisted metal that had been the geas charm in the elder Malfoy's hand had spoken volumes. Still, that cultured, arrogant tone was unmistakable. Behind the two men, exuding a sense of boredom, Harry could sense the aura of Draco Malfoy.

"Father," Draco whined as he did when he wanted to get his way, "Buy me something. You promised to get me a present."

"I believe we discussed a new broom if you behaved during our little side-trip. Now go looking about the shop; don't touch _anything."_

Still bored, Draco wandered among the shelves, picking at this thing or that. Finding the mummified hand that Harry had spotted entering, he began to examine it. Grinning madly to himself, Harry whispered something to Hedwig in Parseltongue. Creeping up behind the other boy, Harry felt Hedwig stretch out as she flicked her tongue against the other boy's ear.

Draco spun around with a quiet yelp, only to find himself staring at the ghostly visage of Hedwig as it vanished completely. Stumbling backward in shock, Draco bumped against a display case, nearly knocking it over.

"Draco," snapped Malfoy Sr. "What are you doing?"

Grabbing the nearest object, the mummified hand, Draco thought fast and grabbed his father's attention by asking, "Can I have this?"

"Ah, the Hand of Glory," purred Mr Borgin. The shopkeeper purred. He began extolling the object's virtues to Lucius as they walked back to the front counter, leaving Draco alone in the shadows. Hearing something shuffling in the darkness, the blond moved deeper into the shadows with his wand out.

"Hedwig?" Draco whispered, half hoping/fearing a response. He nearly yelped again as a hand came out of the darkness and closed on his wrists.

"Not quite," whispered Harry as he smiled at his friends shock.

"Harry!" squeaked Draco in disbelief. "How did you get in here? You can't let my father see you; he gets murderous any time he hears your name.

"That's why we're back here. My cousin Dudley and I were doing some exploring before we did our school shopping and ducked in here. When I heard your dad and Mr Borgin talking, hid.

"Your cousin?" asked Draco as Dudley timidly waved hello. "He's starting Hogwarts this year, right? For a second, I thought I'd seen Hedwig, I guess it was him."

Harry was about to answer when Lucius called out from the door, "Draco, come. We're finished here."

"See you in Diagon Alley," Draco whispered as he turned to run after his father.

Grinning mischievously, Harry nudged Hedwig and said, "Go scare Draco for a bit, we'll be alright here. Don't let his father see you though," he warned.

The Coatl paused for a moment as she debated the wisdom of leaving her master alone. Finally, bowing to his wishes, she darted off Harry's shoulders and shot after Draco.

"Can I help you boys with anything?" asked a gruff voice behind them. Harry had been so preoccupied with Hedwig and Draco that he'd completely missed Mr Borgin's approach.

"Er…" Harry answered dumbly. "We – we were looking for some books."

"Books eh? Books I have, though not something a child would want to be caught reading, especially the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry tensed at being recognised so easily, but Mr Borgin simply laughed it off. Not to worry Mr Potter, regardless of what many people may think, I'm purely a business man. My only allegiance is to my paying customers."

"Fine then," grumbled Harry. "I still want to buy some of these books."

Skimming over the titles present on the shelf, Harry picked eight books. Ranging from Magical theory to advanced charms and hexes, all were considered borderline dark, though not illegal.

"You do understand what you're about, don't you?" Mr Borgin asked as he studied Harry's choices. There are spells in these books that can do real harm if you don't know what you're doing."

"I've got money," Harry said, shaking his bag of coins meaningfully.

"But, then again, the Boy-Who-Lived must know what he's doing." The shopkeeper said with a grin. "And business is after all, business." Several minutes later, Harry paid for the books, as well as two magical bags.

"These are called bags of holding," explained Mr Borgin. It is the size of a regular school bag, but the space inside is the dimensions of a good sized room. When you want something from the bag, just think of the particular item that you've placed inside it and it will be there for you to take. No matter how much you put in it, it will never seem full or become heavier."

"Thanks again," Harry called from the doorway minutes later, his cousin in tow.

"You're always welcome here, Mr Potter," replied Borgin with a wave. "Such a polite boy," the old man muttered as the door closed. "Such a pity."

Out on the street, Harry and Dudley retraced their steps to find their way back to Diagon Alley. Their path, however, wasn't as clear as before.

"Who's this, then?" asked a gruff voice. Harry sensed a rather large form move to block their path.

"Why it's just a couple of kids, lost from their parents," answered a female voice behind them.

Harry cursed himself as the two strangers began to crowd them. 'I should never have sent Hedwig away,' Harry thought furiously as the man poked him in the shoulder with his wand.

"So did Mummy or Daddy leave their little darlings with any spending money?" asked the man as he made a grab for Harry's bag. He cried out a moment later, when Harry's hand touched his bare skin and a fat spark jumped between them. "That's it! The man snapped furiously. "Give me your bags or I'll kill you where you stand!"

Harry tried to back away, but was blocked by the woman. "No running off for you, dear," she purred. "Give old Barnaby your galleons and maybe I'll show you what it's like to be a real man."

"Repulsed and confused by the woman's advances, Harry surreptitiously reached for the wand tucked in his back pocket. With his other hand, he took off his glasses and gazed at the man with dead eyes. The mugger did gasp and step back, not from Harry's milky visage, but the eerie green fire that seemed to be burning in their depths. Harry tightened his hand on his wand and prepared to cast the first spell, when a familiar and very welcome voice broke the tension.

"Harry!" called Hagrid from the stairway that led back to Diagon Alley. "What are yeh doin' here?"

The two shady characters, seeing the huge man approach, moved so quickly to get away that it almost seemed like they'd apparated. Dudley, having been bedridden for Hagrid's last visit, didn't know him and was even more frightened of their savoir. Harry, on the other hand, beamed. He was thrilled to be with the massive groundskeeper.

"Got lost," Harry lied smoothly. "Sorry. What are you doing here, Hagrid?"

"I'm Pickin' up some flesh-eating-slug repellent." He replied gruffly "Let's get yeh out of here an' into some proper daylight." Guided by Hagrid, Harry and Dudley soon found themselves at Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. There, sitting with the half giant, they ate their sundaes and introduced Hagrid to their new pets.

"His name's Tribble," said Dudley, holding the sleepy cat up by its shoulders. "Do you think he's magical?

"Yeh never know," Hagrid said as he scratched it under its chin. "Pets tend to pick up magic from their masters. Did yeh get anythin' Harry?"

"I didn't plan on it, Harry answered reluctantly, but before I knew it, he bonded with me." As he was explaining, Harry reached behind his ear and gently pulled the little creature from behind his ear.

"A Miniature Dragon," whispered Hagrid in awe as Harry sat the tiny creature on the back of his hand. "Bless me, and a hatchling, too." The groundskeeper's aura dimmed a bit and his voice wavered as he went on. "Had a dragon once myself, I did. Norbert… Bless him; I hope he's alright at that dragon preserve."

The half giant paused for a moment and Harry heard what sounded suspiciously like a sniffle before Hagrid continued. "Anyways, it's a beautiful pet, Harry. Feedin' him won't be a problem till winter. He'll eat insects till then. Then he can go on table scraps till it warms up again. Have yeh named him yet?"

Frowning, Harry answered, not yet. I cant seem to pick one. Hedwig's name just came to me and I guess it will for him, too."

"How does it do that?" asked Dudley abruptly, pointing at the little dragon.

Turning his own attention to the creature, Harry could sense no difference. "What's he doing, Duds?" he asked.

"He's all see-through now; I can barely make him out."

"Oh, that's just one of his abilities," explained Hagrid. "D'fensive, yeh understan'. He's like a chameleon, but better. Mini-Dragons develop a poisonous bite before they're a year old, an' a stinger on their tale shortly after."

"Great," Harry snorted, "poisonous at both ends."

"Nah," Hagrid assured him. "The stinger in his tail only paralyzes. It's the bite that kills."

"Who's bite kills?"

Both boys jumped in their seats at Petunia's unexpected voice. Dudley shot pleading looks at Hagrid, while Harry whipped his hand under the table to hide his new pet. Harry's ears still rung from her reaction to Hedwig, he really didn't want to deal with it all over again, at least not quite yet.

"Hagrid was just telling us about some of the monsters in the Forbidden Forest," said Harry, thinking quickly.

"Really," sneered Snape from Petunia's side. The professor's tone screamed of disbelief. "And what creatures are you speaking of?" The question seemed innocent enough, but Harry knew that Severus was trying to catch them out in a lie.

"Eh… Acromantulas," Hagrid supplied uncomfortably as he shot a quick wink at the boys. "Well, I've got to get that slug repellent an' head back to Hogwarts. Nice to see yeh again Mrs Dursley." Wishing a good day to Professor Snape and the boys, Hagrid beat a hasty retreat.

"Ready to go shopping?" Harry asked, trying to distract the adults. Dudley, catching on, quickly began barraging his mother with pleas for this or that trinket they'd seen while exploring. While the adults were preoccupied with his cousin, Harry raised his hand to his ear and let the little dragon regain its hidden perch.

The next hour had them visiting a multitude of shops, buying the supplies needed by both Dudley and Harry for the coming school year. The boys each carried their things in their new school bags, only raising a curious eyebrow from Severus as they continually put in new things. Their last stop was at Flourish and Blott's for their school books.

As they approached the shop, Harry stopped in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies and asked, "Aunt, do you mind if I stop in here? The book store is really close and I'll be right behind you.

Stopping, Petunia glanced into the shop, curious what could have her nephew so interested. As she did so, Snape came up beside her and whispered something in her ear. Harry couldn't see her expression, but he felt an up welling of sadness in her that was directed towards him and Dudley as well. Clasping his shoulder, Petunia gave him a little push and said, "Don't be long," as he darted into the shop.

"He is his father's son after all," murmured Severus with an odd look on his face. "Come Petunia, Dudley. We'll go get your books."

Inside Quality Quidditch Supplies, Harry ran his hands over several brooms as he worked his way through the shop. It was odd, he thought to himself, each broom, even the ones of the same model, all had different magical auras. It was almost like they had personalities. Logically, he knew it must have had something to do with how the spells were applied to them, but Harry somehow sensed that picking just the right broom would make his flying that much better. A smile crept across his face, however, when he felt the presence of his best friend as the other boy endeavoured to sneak up on him.

"Hi Draco," Harry said with a grin.

"Bloody Hell," the Malfoy heir moaned in exasperation. "At least tell me I got close to sneaking up on you that time. Are you sure you're blind?"

Harry just grinned at Draco's antics as h e kept stroking the Nimbus 2000 in front of him. He was getting good feelings from this one; its magic seemed to resonate with his own. A familiar weight settled on Harry's shoulders and a tongues feathery kisses tickled his ear.

"Well it is good to see you again, Harry," huffed Draco. "You could have mentioned that bloody snake of yours was back, though. I thought I'd wet myself when she landed on my shoulders a little while ago."

"She likes you a lot," Harry said as he continued with his inspection of the broom. "I think she missed you as much as I did."

Reaching out to stroke Hedwig's feathers, Draco mumbled, "I've missed you both too." Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, he continued, "Sorry about earlier with father, he really is mental when you come up. For that entire first week, he was furious all the time. He's been better the last few days, though…. So – did you come in here looking for me?"

Reaching a decision, Harry lifted the broom from its rack and replied, "No, I came to buy a broom."

"Buy? Harry, you have to know they'll never let you play."

"I'm working on that," answered Harry absentmindedly. "Severus is helping me."

"Severus now, is it?" Draco drawled. "Sounds like you and my godfather are getting chummy."

Shocked at his own bizarre slip, Harry defended himself. "Aunt Petunia and Dudley call him that all the time, I can't help it that I do it too."

"Right," Draco snorted. They purchased the broom and the younger Malfoy only blinked when Harry calmly opened his school bag and pushed a full size broom inside. Leaving Quality Quidditch Supplies, the boys walked together to Flourish & Blott's. Reaching the shop, however, they were surprised to find a throng of people packed around the entrance.

"What's all this about?" Harry asked as he closed his inner eye with a wince. People were packed too closely together and it was giving him a headache trying to figure out what he was sensing.

"Lockhart," announced Draco with disgust in his voice.

"You mean the man who wrote all our defence books for this year, what about him?"

"Yes him," returned the blond. "It turns out he's going to be our DADA teacher as well."

"That's good?"

Hardly," Draco sneered. "I met him before. Lockhart has been at a few of my father's parties; the man is a total ponce. The girls go completely insane for him though.

"But he can't be all that bad," Harry reasoned. "I mean Dumbledore hired him, right? Lockhart can't be completely worthless."

"You mean like Quirrell?"

"Oh – right," grunted Harry, not feeling in such a good mood anymore.

The two boys elbowed their way through the crowd, picking up Harry's course books and any others that caught his interest. Harry was glad that Draco had come along, with the bookshop so crowded, he couldn't use his senses to read the books magical print, and it would have taken forever to run his hand over the spine of every book. When they'd gathered everything and paid at the counter, Draco pulled Harry toward the more crowded part of the shop so they could hear Lockhart act foolishly in front of his fans.

"You'll love this," began Draco with a snort.

Just then, they were both shoved back by a large man that reeked of flash powder to Harry. "This is for _The Daily Prophet_ – "

"Bloody git," Malfoy called after the reporter. "Oh shite – Sorry mate."

"What do you…?" Harry asked, even as he heard Lockhart speak again.

"It _can't_ be Harry Potter?"

Out of nowhere, a hand grasped Harry's arm roughly and pulled him on to the stage. Before he knew what was happening, Harry was pulled up tight against Lockhart, facing the crowd.

"Together, you and I are worth the front page. Smile for the camera, Harry."

Far from smiling, Harry was furious. He felt more helpless now, than he had against the two thugs in Knockturn Alley. Relying on lessons taught all the children at St Mary's. Kicking out a bit, he found Lockhart's leg and stomped down hard while calling out for help at the top of his lungs. There was a satisfying crack as something gave way in the professor's foot, causing him to howl in pain.

As the wizard's grip on Harry loosened, the boy brought his arm out and swung it back hard as he could. He connected with – to put it politely, he connected with Professor Lockhart, dropping the man to his knees with an agonized hiss. Stepping quickly away, Harry was again grabbed, this time by the gentle but firm hands of Aunt Petunia. Guiding him away from the stage, she told him to wait with his friend and cousin until she'd had a word with _that wizard."_

Harry heard her march over to the stage and said three words. "How Dare you?" The sound of a bare hand striking flesh could be heard far away as The Leaky Cauldron, as Petunia tore into the new Hogwarts defence teacher.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you Potter," teased Draco as they watched Petunia giving Lockhart the treatment. "_Famous_ Harry Potter, cant even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"Leave him alone, he didn't want all that!" Harry and Draco both turned to the girl's voice that sounded half familiar to the raven haired boy.

"Why Harry, you've got a girlfriend!" drawled Malfoy with glee. Harry barely had a chance to growl at his friend in response, when more of his classmates pushed through the crowd.

"Bugger off Malfoy," said Ron Weasley angrily. "That's my sister you're talking to."

"Your sister, you say," purred Draco with a contemptuous tone. "That explains a lot."

Both boys' auras were glowing with hostility but Harry was fed up with it. "No Fighting!" he roared in a good imitation of Aunt Petunia.

"Indeed," said Professor Snape as he joined them. "Draco, Mr Weasley, while you are not yet at school, and I cannot take points, I _will_ remember take your behaviour into account when you do arrive in my class. Now if it is fighting you want, go watch your fathers, they're doing an excellent job of it."

"What?" Both boys whirled as one to see Mr Weasley and Lucius shoving each other by a side entrance. Calling a quick goodbye to his friend, Draco ran over to the impending scuffle.

Gentle hands turned Harry back around, and he was faced with Aunt Petunia again. Finished with Lockhart, she'd come back to check on her nephew. "Are you alright, Harry?"

"I'm fine, mum, he just startled me."

There was a moment's pause, and then Petunia asked again in a breathless whisper, "What was that?"

"I'm fine, Aunt Petunia, a little tired though; can we go home?"

"Of course dear, let's go."

The four of them left the bookshop in pandemonium as they returned to the Leaky Cauldron. Petunia held her boys hands in each of hers as they walked, with Severus close behind. Her grip was a bit tight, but Harry didn't mind. It just felt good to be with family.

* * *

ok guys, two last things. I've created a yahoo group for my fics, I'm still getting around to putting my stories there. If you want to prod me into writing faster, or if you want me to switch over to Druid's apprentice for its next chapter, post there (extra comments about the story are welcome too :) the addy is in my **user profile**. You might have also noticed that I didn't name the mini-dragon in this chapter... any suggestions? post in reviews or on hedwig's perch. 

Oh! and one last thing. I heard pottermalfoy24 is going to do a sequel to As a Bat. That's the story that inspired Blind Faith... check it out if you get a chance.

On with the Reviewer responses, and thanks everybody that did reveiew... way too many to answer them all!

**Red Rose**: Sal and Ric are indeed Godric and Salazar _in a way!_

**Dark Topaz**: i like him clueless myself :)

**Yue-neko**: A couple chapters to go before you find out which house is Dudley's

**Dattatreya**: me fail english? thats unpossible! Really, if you're intrested, I could use the help. as to why bf2 is generally worse than the others, I'm using openoffice and it doesn't have a grammar check. I'll email you.

**Steffles24**: I haven't detailed it in the story yet, but Coatls are wind spirits, they can't be killed. It simply took a while for herto reform her body. Drawing power from the mirror of erised helped. So far, only Snape, Draco, and possibly Dudley know Harry is a snake speaker.

**Dahlias**: his relationship with Hermione and Ron is a bit complicated, and they will probably never be the friends you know in JKR. to tell the truth, I'm exploring that whole situation as I write it.

**Potterfanforever**: I think that Harry will probably learn Occulomancy sooner, rather than later because of the closer relationship he's having with Severus. He'll probably have an easier time learning it as well.

**Stratagemini**: on the first part, its all yes. as to Ginny, I haven't thought that far ahead.

**JDZ:** i know it's a bit of a stretch, but giving Dumbledore this blind '_pun' _spot makes things so much more interesting.

**Vera CD**: Honestly? I have a friend who's a nurse, and she knows something about how visually impared people interact with thier environment. some of it is still just guesswork on my part though :)


	4. Barriers

Blind Faith: Slytherin's Heir

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related materials are property of J.K. Rowling. I, on the other hand am Elmer J. Fudd, Miwwionheir. I own a mansion and a yacht.

Chapter 4: Barriers

The final weeks of summer vacation passed far too quickly for Harry's taste. It wasn't that he didn't want to get back to school; in fact, returning to Hogwarts was something he wanted to very badly. The problem was that with everything happening, he'd barely had a chance to open h is new books.

A great deal of his time had been spent with Aunt Petunia preparing Dudley for his classes. Having been unconscious so long, Dudley's reading and academic skills were far below his classmates. Even with the progress he'd made in the year since his reawakening, Duds was having a hard time understanding the texts. It fell to Harry, for the most part to explain magical concepts to him that Petunia protested she would never understand. Leaving that part to Harry, Aunt Petunia had drilled Dudley on his letters, determined that by the time they left, he would be able to read at a passable level. Though the studies took much of their time, it was the move that dominated their lives in the final weeks of August.

The new house in Hogsmeade had finally been finished around Harry's birthday. They'd celebrated it with a small party in their new home, and one of his presents had been to have first pick of the bedrooms. He'd again picked the smallest, preferring a smaller area because it was easier to organize. Professor Snape had been present for his party, as had Hagrid, Professor Dumbledore, and a man who turned out to be a friend of his parents from school.

Remus Lupin arrived as the party was in full swing, knocking on the door almost too quietly to be heard. Harry, being the closest to the door, opened it and was nearly floored by the wave of emotion coming from this somehow familiar stranger. Shock, sadness and longing seemed to radiate from the man as he studied Harry for long moments. There were other things about the man's aura that Harry found confusing as well. It had a shimmer similar to Professor McGonagall's, but different somehow as well. Lupin's magical aura resonated with power, yet his physical presence radiated weariness and wear.

Harry did notice that both Remus and Severus became very uncomfortable when they saw each other for the first time. Lupin's aura flashed with shock and sadness, while Snape's reddened with anger. Still, whatever differences they had seemed to put aside for his sake. He didn't know Remus well enough to ask yet, but Harry planned to track Severus down first chance he got and find out what was going on between them.

One of Harry's best presents that day were the stories that Remus told of his parent's days at Hogwarts. Aunt Petunia listened as well, torn between the old jealousy that she'd worked hard to get past and the hunger to share some part of her sister's life that she had denied herself. Lupin also found Harry's tale of his first year fascinating, seeming to take special interest in Harry's description of Neville's invisibility cloak. Harry had been saddened when Remus had left quickly after Dumbledore's hasty departure, though he did promise to come visiting often.

The next day, Severus and Professor Flitwick had set up a temporary static floo connection between the Shrieking Shack and Privet Drive, effectively creating a portal directly between the two houses, allowing them to move everything quickly. Petunia, Harry and Dudley had spent much of their final week before school moving the last of their possessions out of Privet Drive and setting them up in their new home.

The final move would be on September 1st; at that time, they would leave Privet drive for the last time and travel as a family on the Hogwarts Express to their new home. Harry couldn't wait to explore the wizarding village their new house rested beside. During the move, he'd sensed so much happening outside the walls that he'd almost dared his aunt's wrath to take a look. He and Dudley were grounded, however, and though he had no one to blame but himself, Harry was still a bit angry at Loki for giving up the game.

Harry knew it was wrong to blame the mini-dragon for the chaos that erupted two days after their return from Diagon Alley. He'd tried to hide his new pet from Petunia, and trapped the little creature in his room alone. Little did Harry know how spectacularly it would blow up in his face.

Harry, Petunia and Dudley had been downstairs, packing the china in crates when a loud crashing sound came from the second floor. "What was that?" Petunia began uncertainly as she rose to her feet. "You did tell that elf-thing not to come back, didn't you?"

"Of course I did Aunt Petunia," Harry replied. "But I don't think –" Anything further he might have wanted to say was forgotten as Harry sensed the mini-dragon come careening down the stairwell, and by the sound of it, Hedwig coming swiftly behind.

Surging to his feet, Harry could only grimace as the two aerial acrobats swooped into the hallway, to be followed swiftly by the sound of breaking glass. "Hedwig," Harry called desperately as his aunt stood up beside him, emitting a growl that would have given a mountain troll pause.

"Harry," she snapped. "Get that feathered menace under control this instant. And what is that thing she's chasing?"

"It's," Harry stammered, "(cough) mypetdragon (cough)."

"Your what?" Petunia fairly screamed.

"It's not a _real_ dragon; he doesn't breathe fire or anything. The man at the pet store says that they're dead-smart and really won't be any trouble –" Even as he said it, Harry's words were punctuated by a loud crash from the kitchen.

Having had quite enough, Aunt Petunia roared, "Just Stop!"

Both animals, distracted by her forceful yell, forgot where they were going and flew directly into the wall ahead of them. Rattled by the impact, a picture of Uncle Vernon, the last taken before the crash, broke free of its fasteners and fell toward the floor.

Hearing his aunt's horrified gasp, Harry somehow sensed what was happening, reached out with his magic, and called "_Accio picture!_" Harry had little hope of the spell working; his senses were nearly blind to non-magical or non-living things. It was with a lot of surprise that he felt the picture frame slap firmly into his outstretched hand.

Sighing in relief, Harry passed the picture to his aunt, who after pausing a moment to hug it tightly to her bosom, said, "Thank you Harry. Now take your – animals – and lock them in your room until further notice!"

Harry was about to protest, but was sidetracked by a tapping at the window. Turning his senses toward it, he recognised the aura of an owl. Seeing that Aunt Petunia was quite fed up with magical animals for one day, Harry went to open the window, as the owl wouldn't leave until it delivered its message.

Letting in the large bird, Harry untied the note from its leg and gave it an owl treat from a jar on the counter. Running his fingers over the Braille writing that appeared just for him, Harry cursed as he read.

_Dear Mr Potter,_

_We have received intelligence that a summoning charm was used at your place of residence this afternoon at eleven minutes past four. _

_As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery 1875 paragraph C)._

_Enjoy your Holidays!_

_Mafalda Hopkirk_

_Improper use of Magic Office_

_Ministry of Magic._

Frustrated beyond words, Harry just groaned as Aunt Petunia took the note from his hands. Skimming its contents with her eyes, Petunia snorted derisively. "What's the point of sending children to school nine months of the year to learn magic, and then tell them they can't use it? Harry, don't worry about this letter, we'll just be careful not to have you doing any more magic until I can talk to Severus."

"Thanks Aunt Petunia," Harry said, relieved.

"Think nothing of it," she replied. "Now take your animals, Dudley, and yourself upstairs. You two had to work together to keep that little monster secret from me until now, so you're both grounded until school starts."

The sense of utter glee Harry got from the encounter pegged the little creature as a trouble maker, from there; it was with little difficulty to find a name for him: Loki, god of mischief. Fortunately for Loki and Harry, the mini-dragon was able to stay out of trouble for the rest of the summer.

From that day until the start of school, the only times Harry and Dudley were allowed outside was for their runs and moving chores. One bonus to all the extra work they had to do around the house was that Dudley was finally beginning to put on a little muscle. Vernon had been a big, beefy man and though Harry could never picture his cousin being fat as he used to be, Dudley did take after his father and was showing the promise of being quite sturdy someday.

At last September 1st arrived. Their day started obscenely early, even before the sun had risen. After a quick breakfast, the last of their possessions, save the boys school things, were packed and sent through the floo.

"The taxi is here mum," Dudley cried excitedly from the front lawn. Harry stood with Petunia at the front door to their old house as she took one last look at their home for so many years. He could feel his aunt's sadness as she relived memories, both good and bad that resided here. Harry waited patiently as Petunia laid so many ghosts to rest, but time was against them and they had to be going.

"He would've wanted you to be happy," Harry tried to reassure her in his most convincing tone. The thing was, even though he didn't remember his uncle that well, Harry had a nagging feeling that Vernon would have been less than pleased with this move.

Petunia sighed one last time as the cabbie tapped impatiently on the horn. With, or perhaps in spite of Dudley's help, the driver had already loaded their bags and was waiting behind the wheel. Closing the door to Number four, and that chapter of their lives, Petunia, Harry and Dudley climbed in the back of the car together on the way to their new life.

"Kings Cross, in London" Petunia informed the driver shortly. Turning her attention to her two boys, she explained what would be happening when they got to the school. "I spoke with the headmaster about you two possibly staying at the new house the first few days of classes."

Harry and Dudley both stilled at her words, both wanted to be with her after the move, but for differing reasons. Harry knew his aunt would be alone in that big house with nothing to do, and he worried about her. Dudley, on the other hand, hadn't spent a single night away from his mother since his reawakening. And though he was trying to act brave like Harry, Duds was terrified.

"I thought it would be nice, the first few days, for you both to sleep over in your new rooms," she explained. "Dumbledore, unfortunately, was insistent that you be at the school." Squeezing Dudley's arm, she went on, "He said that you would need the time to accustom himself to whichever house he was placed. When I asked about you, Harry, he said there was something going on with Merlin House as well. I tried everything, but the frying pan, but he was insistent."

Dudley sighed unhappily at not being able to stay with his mum, but Harry was curious. Merlin was as ancient as any of the other houses at Hogwarts, even if it hadn't been used in hundreds of years. The rules concerning Merlin and its students had been a bit murky last year and he wasn't sure what this new development could all be about, but he decided not to worry about it until they got back to school.

Their ride to Kings Cross was largely uneventful. Hedwig rode invisibly o Harry's shoulders, while Loki perched in his usual spot behind Harry's ear. That hiding place wouldn't work much longer, however, as the little dragon had doubled in length over the last four weeks. Only its chameleon-like ability kept people from noticing it now.

Dudley, Harry could tell, was a nervous wreck. From past experience, Harry knew it was car rides that upset his cousin so much. For Dudley, anyway, the memory of the accident was just too fresh for comfort. Tribble, Dudley's new pet, was helping though. The steady purr from the little orange cat soothed the boy as he stroked her fur.

Arriving at Kings Cross, Harry and his family unloaded their things and hung about between platforms nine and ten, waiting for a chance to slip through the barrier unobserved. They were startled when, out of nowhere, someone called out to them.

"Potter," drawled a familiar and welcome voice. "Going to hang about with the muggles all day, or are you coming to the train?" Stepping through a seemingly solid brick wall, Draco Malfoy strode up to them as if he owned the station.

"Mrs Dursley, Dudley," Draco said by way of greeting. "There's five minutes before the train leaves," he continued, directing his words toward Harry. "Can we talk for a minute… alone?"

Sensing a stab of anxiety from his aunt, Harry reassured her as best he could, "We'll be right behind you; would it be okay? You and Dudley could find us seats on the train."

Petunia seemed ready to say no, but relented after a few moments. "Alright then," she harrumphed. "Mind you that you just came off being grounded today, I'll have no more monkey business, especially today."

With a smile Harry reassured Petunia he'd be along directly. After his relatives passed through the barrier, Harry turned back to his friend, who was regarding him curiously.

"Grounded?"

"Long Story," he answered. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"I can't just want to talk to my best mate?" Draco asked sounding slightly put out.

Harry snorted with disbelief. "Right. And you couldn't have done that on the train. So what's so important you needed to talk alone?"

"Father's up to something," Draco said quietly after looking about to make sure no one was listening. "I don't know what, exactly, but before I left this morning, he made me swear that I not be caught alone anywhere in the castle or be out of the Slytherin dorms after dark."

"You know you're the second person to say something like that to me this summer," Harry answered. "A crazed house elf named Dobby popped into my bedroom a few weeks ago and tried to get me not to go to school. Why would your father tell you not to leave the _Slytherin_ dorms?"

"Dobby?" Draco squeaked. "That's one of our family elves! What else did he say?"

Before Harry could answer, new voices entered the conversation as two figures emerged from the barrier. "Here he is Nev," said Ron Weasley. He's got _Malfoy_ with him too."

Harry winced at the way Ron spoke Draco's name. He'd hoped that after events at the end of term last year, some of the resentment between the two would have faded a bit, obviously not. Knowing Draco as he did, Harry knew that a fight was about to start.

"Well look who it is," the blond sneered. "Weasel and the_ Hero of Hogwarts._" Turning back to his friend, Draco explained, "You know that's what everybody is calling him. Word got back to the Prophet over the summer, what the headmaster said happened with the stone. They ate it up and hailed Longbottom as the brightest young wizard at Hogwarts."

"But I am!" Neville exclaimed, shocking Harry. "Professor Dumbledore said so!"

"You were unconscious!" Harry reminded Neville as Draco and Ron squared off and continued insulting each other.

"But it was _my_ magic that saved us," the podgy boy insisted. "The headmaster explained how I instinctively used it to stop him!"

"Nev," Harry began wearily. The Gryffindor boy was so caught up in the story spun by Dumbledore, that he couldn't see the obvious. "You can't really believe all that.

"And I suppose you want us to believe that you did it?" asked Neville hotly. "You can't even see, let alone fight!"

Everyone froze at Neville's words; no one could believe he'd said something so rude, not even him. Ron and Draco, who'd been trading insults, both gaped at the podgy boy, while Harry just stood immobile with his face turning a deeper and deeper red.

"Harry," said Neville apologetically, "I…."

"Don't Longbottom," Harry grated as Hedwig reared up in alarm. Unnoticed by the boys, trashcans nearby were rattling as if being shook by an unseen hand. "Just don't. Ron, I think you and him should go get back on the train.

"Harry," Weasley said hastily. "You know I'd never…."

"I know Ron," Harry said tightly, the blood pounding so hard in his head that he felt a bit faint. "Please –"

A gentle hand closed around Harry's arm and Draco muttered quietly, "Close your eyes."

"What?" Harry asked in confusion.

"I don't know why, but you've got light coming from them bright enough to see around your glasses."

Draco's words were distraction enough for Harry to forget his anger a bit, and things on the platform settled back down. Ron murmured a quiet apology and turned away with Neville. Harry really wouldn't have noticed, except for the loud thump that came shortly after from the direction of the barrier.

"What's wrong Weasley?" laughed Draco. "Miss the entrance?"

"No," Ron answered sounding confused. "This is it, I should have gone through."

Turning his senses toward the barrier, Harry gasped in shock. The portal was gone!

"You obviously missed it," snapped Draco impatiently as he came over to inspect the wall, becoming agitated when he couldn't find the entry either. "It's got to be here! It's always open until the train leaves!"

"What time is it?" asked Neville in a panic.

"Ten fifty-nine," squeaked Draco, looking at his watch. "We only have thirty seconds."

"Let me try to unlock it!" Neville said, pulling out his wand.

"It's not a door Longbottom," growled Draco. "Your spell wont do anything but get you expel – oh wait... go right ahead then."

"Ha – Ha," answered the podgy boy scornfully. He was cut off from saying anything further by the sound of the station clock ringing the hour.

"Eleven o'clock," moaned Ron. "We missed the train! If the barrier's blocked, then maybe our parents can't get back! We're stranded in London!"

"Relax Ron," Harry said, thinking furiously. "We'll get to school another way."

"Yeah," Ron mumbled. "We could always go wait by my dad's… that's it! My dad's car!"

"You want to drive to Hogwarts?" Draco scoffed. "There aren't any roads to it, as far as I know, and don't you have to be an adult to drive?"

"It flies," Ron growled at the blond. "Fred and George nick it all the time from my parents all the time. They never get caught."

"I don't think it's a good idea, said Harry uncertainly.

"No, it's perfect," countered Neville. We'll follow the tracks and get to the station first. We'll just join everybody as they get off the train."

"I'm not doing it," said Harry firmly. "Too much can go wrong."

"Good for you," Neville answered cheekily. "You're smart to know your limits."

Harry flushed again, but checked himself when Draco gently squeezed his arm again.

"I'll stay with you," the blond said. "We'll find another way."

"Right," Ron said uncomfortably. From his aura, Harry could tell that the redhead was having second thoughts, but his Gryffindor pride kept him from backing down. "We'd best be going if we want to get ahead of the train."

Ron and Neville ran off toward the parking area, leaving Harry and Draco alone by the barrier. Pausing for a few more moments to make up his mind, Harry flicked out his cane and headed the same direction as the other two boys went.

"You haven't decided to go with them?" Draco asked uncertainly.

"Of course not, we're going to catch the Knight bus."

"To Hogwarts?" the blond asked incredulously. "That would take all night!"

"To the Leaky Cauldron," answered Harry with a shake of his head. "We'll floo to my new house and send a message to Professor Snape when we get there."

Stepping out of the main entrance, Draco let out something between a curse and a laugh. "Idiots."

"What?"

"Do you suppose the muggles will find it odd to see a flying car? A galleon says they don't make it, probably crash into a tree or something."

"You're on," Harry answered as he raised his wand hand. Seconds later, the magical triple-decker bus skidded to a stop in front of them and they boarded, waving hello to Stan.

Fifteen minutes later, Harry and Draco stood a bit unsteadily in front of the Leaky Cauldron. He wasn't sure, but Harry had a sneaking suspicion that Ernie, the driver, went out of his way to make the ride more hectic. Stepping into the pub, they both froze as the noise inside stopped and attention was centred on them.

"Oi," said Tom, the toothless old barkeep as he approached the boys. "Shouldn't you both be on the way to school?

"Missed the train," explained Harry shortly. "Is there any chance we could borrow the use of your floo? I can pay for it."

"Sure you can," said Tom, refusing the galleons Harry held out. "You've paid more than enough for us all." Pulling a small jar from the mantle, Tom poured a handful of the powder in each boy's hand. "You know how to use it, right?"

Still blushing from the man's words, Harry nodded "Yes sir." To Draco, Harry said quietly, "The floo address is the Shrieking Shack and the password is Lily." Going first, Harry braced himself, then threw the powder and was on his way.

Floo travel was disorienting for Harry. Magic swirled around him crazily and it was easier to shut off his senses when travelling. Physically, he felt like he'd been thrown in a swirling river, unable to tell down from up. Soon, however, he arrived home, tumbling out of the hearth. Moments later, Draco came after, landing of top of Harry.

"Oh yes," Harry groused from under his friend. "So much better than taking the train."

Grinning down, Draco grinned and answered. "I don't know… my landing was pretty soft." Sitting up on his friends stomach, but not getting up, Draco made a show of loudly brushing the soot off his shirt. "It is faster, you have to admit, if a bit dirty."

"And thanks for brushing it all off on me," Harry groaned. "Are you getting up any time soon, or have I been made your official seat?"

Pausing another moment as if in thought, Draco reluctantly climbed to his feet and pulled Harry to join him. Hedwig and Loki, who'd both leapt free of their master when he'd come through the floo, sat on the back of the couch watching with amusement.

Digging through his bag, Harry came up with a quick quotes quill and parchment. Dictating two quick notes, he sent one to his Aunt with Hedwig, her being the stronger flier, and the other to Snape with Loki. The Coatl had already left with her letter, while Harry explained to Loki where he would have to go.

"Do you remember Professor Snape?" Harry asked the mini-dragon in Parseltongue. This was to be his first delivery, and Harry wanted to make sure Loki could do it. "The dark man that came to see Aunt Petunia, he's at the castle near us." Taking a tightly rolled up parchment that was almost larger than the dragon, he handed it to the beast, who held it tightly in his claws. "Give that to him, and him only. You think you can?"

The mini-dragon blinked at him once, then nodded his head slightly and let out a squawk of affirmation before launching himself and flying drunkenly toward the window with his heavy burden. Mini-dragons weren't technically snakes, but Loki did understand and speak it.

"Well," Harry said, sitting back on the couch. ""We just have to wait here, and Professor Snape should come to get us in a while."

Draco gaped at his friend for a few moments before snorting in disgust. "You're kidding, right? We're in Hogsmeade, Harry. Severus won't be able to come get us for a long time, I'd bet. Let's go look around!"

"I don't know," Harry murmured uncertainly. "What if he gets here and we're still gone?"

"We'll leave a note, then! Come on Harry, Honeydukes is out there somewhere." The blond cajoled in a sing song voice. "They make the best chocolate in the world."

A slow grin began to replace the worried expression on Harry's face. If he had one weakness, it was chocolate, and Draco knew it.

"Well, maybe just for a little bit," he relented. "I mean, the train won't be here until tonight."

"Yes!"

Harry quickly dictated another note for Severus and spell-o-taped it to the front door. With Draco leading the way, the two boys left the Shrieking shack and made their way to Hogsmeade proper. When the village lay open to Harry's magical senses, any reservations he may have had, were forgotten.

Hogsmeade was the largest and only all magical settlement in Britain. More spread out than Diagon Alley, Harry could actually make sense of all the magic that flowed through the streets. Allowing Draco to pull him along, the boys made a bee-line for the first shop on their list of places to visit. Honeydukes.

Inside was a feast of different aromas and flavours that dazzled Harry. Draco would drag him from bin to bin, getting Harry to sample almost everything. They left the shop after a couple hours with several bags of candy stashed in Harry's special school bag.

Their next stop was Zonko's joke shop. Inside was every trick or prank item ever created. Draco spent an hour trying to convince Harry to at least buy some dung bombs to use on Neville, and eventually, he did buy a few items, though he doubted he'd ever use them. Finished there, the boys realized that they were getting hungry, and they were off to their next destination, The Three Broomsticks.

Inside, the place reminded Harry a bit of the Leaky Cauldron, but much nicer. The air was filled with the aroma of freshly cooked food and the sound music that Draco identified as the 'Weird Sisters' coming over the wizarding wireless. Finding a table, the two were immediately descended upon by Madam Rosmerta.

Finding out who Harry was, the matron was delighted. She'd heard that he and his family were moving to Hogsmeade from members of the school staff that frequented her establishment and demanded that Harry bring his aunt to come visit the first chance they got.

Harry and Draco had finished their meal and were on their third Butterbeer, when a familiar voice sounded from behind Harry.

"Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy," said Snape in his most chilling tone. "How is it that you not only missed the express, but I find you in Hogsmeade, which is off limits to students before their third year?" Both boys jerked in their chairs, not expecting someone to be there, Harry had closed his inner eye for a while, as his usual headache was beginning to creep in at the edges. Loki, returning to her master nuzzled his neck before crawling up to her hidden perch behind his right ear.

"We're not actually _back_ in school yet, professor," said Harry, feeling a bit cheeky. "And being that I live here now, wouldn't it be more like wandering around my neighbourhood?"

Severus looked to Draco as if he was undecided whether to fly into a rage or (Merlin forbid) crack a smile. After fighting an internal battle for several moments, the potions master went on, "Be that as it may, you both should have been on the Hogwarts express and therefore on your way to school. You'll both return to the castle with me to await your schoolmates."

Gathering their things, they left the Three Broomsticks and Draco gasped. "It's dark outside!"

"Yes, you've had quite the day by yourselves. The train has arrived at the station by now and we'll be lucky to get back to the castle before the Sorting Ceremony.

Harry kept his inner eye closed as they approached the castle. He wanted to be able to 'see' Dudley's sorting, and knew that the intensity of the castle's wards would only make his headache worse.

Passing the entry doors, Harry then slowly opened his inner eye, hissing in pain as he adjusted to the intensity of magic. He wanted no repeat of his last year, where he'd fainted when first exposed to Hogwarts magic. As they came upon the entrance to the Great Hall, Snape bid them go through the main doors while he went around to the staff entrance.

Any plans the boys had of sneaking in unobserved to their seats, however, were dashed as the steady hubbub of voices dwindled to nothing. Harry and Draco, for the second time that day, found themselves the centre of attention, though to a much larger audience this time. Not waiting for an invitation, the two boys scampered to the Merlin table, where everyone started asking all kinds of questions.

Draco happily rattled on to Blaise Zabini about their adventure in Hogsmeade, while Harry did his best to do the same with Terry Boot. He could sense Hermione wanting to ask questions, but he really didn't want to talk to her at the moment, though he knew at some point he must.

After a few minutes, Dumbledore stood up and addressed the school. "Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. For those of you returning to us, I'm sure you've properly emptied your heads over the past few weeks, and everyone is anxious to have them filled again. As we do every year, we'll begin with the Sorting Ceremony for our newest students. Professor McGonagall, if you please."

The taciturn transfigurations professor stepped forward and was about to begin, when everybody heard the sputtering of a muggle engine and Harry sensed something barely miss hitting the great hall as it went by the high windows. Snape, who'd barely seated himself, rose at the headmasters nod and left the hall in a flourish of black robes.

At the Merlin table, Harry felt a slight nudge at his ribs from Draco and heard a snicker from the blond. "That's a galleon you owe me," Harry muttered to his friend.

"They haven't landed yet," Draco answered with a grin.

After a confused silence, the headmaster coughed lightly as a signal for Professor McGonagall to continue. Harry only half listened as the children were sorted. Some boy named Creevey, who seemed to have boundless enthusiasm, was sorted in to Gryffindor. Another, named Smith went to Hufflepuff with Merlin's crest. Harry's ears did perk up when McGonagall called, "Dursley, Dudley."

There was a sudden flurry of feathered wings and screams from the first years as Hedwig became visible and launched herself from Dudley's shoulders and flew to Harry. He felt her familiar weight settle on his shoulders as Dudley had the sorting hat placed on his head.

Moments dragged by and even from half way across the hall, Harry could hear his cousin arguing with the hat, though not what was actually said. The wait dragged on into minutes and McGonagall had started forward to find out what the problem was when the hat coughed and announced grumpily, "well then, better be… Hufflepuff!"

The hall broke out in applause and Dudley scurried to his new house table, radiating both relief and worry. So preoccupied with the emotions coming from his cousin, Harry only half listened as others were sorted. He did hear as both Luna Lovegood for Ravenclaw and Ginny Weasley for Gryffindor were given Merlin's Crest.

Again, Dumbledore rose to address the students. "Everyone," he said, bringing silence to the hall. "I've a few start of term announcements before we all tuck in. Firstly, the forest on the grounds remains for bidden to all students wishing to survive the school year. Mr Filch, our caretaker, has again asked me to remind you that there will be no magic in the hallways between classes. Also, the ever growing list of banned items will be posted on his door.

We have again found an instructor for the post of Defence Against Dark Arts. Everyone please welcome Gilderoy Lockhart and wish him the best of luck."

The headmaster tried to say more, but the sheer volume of squeals and applause from the female population kept him from going on for some time. Harry, disgusted with the whole thing, closed his inner eye and was tempted to stopper his ears with his fingers in an attempt to drown out the adoration that so many of his classmates were showing the Pompous fool at the head table. Eventually, everyone settled down and the headmaster finished his announcements.

"Lastly," he said. "After reviewing the performance of Merlin House last year, some changes have been made. While students with Merlin's crest will still eat together and share a new and improved common room, they will attend classes and sleep with their sponsor houses. In the spirit of inter-house cooperation, Merlin's will be allowed to participate in team sports or clubs for _any_ house, not simply their own."

The headmaster stood calmly, waiting for all the muttered comments around the hall to pass after his last announcement. Harry, though really had no problems with the new situation, save that he would rather have been able to share a dorm with Draco. It was almost a relief, however, to find that he wouldn't be seeing Neville or Hermione as much. His problems with Longbottom only seemed to be growing; as for Granger, he'd promised himself that he would forgive her soon, but she'd been so unrepentant over the whole thing that he couldn't just yet.

"Now," said the headmaster, "If there is nothing else, let's all tuck in." With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore signalled the house elves, who made the banquet cover all the house tables. Having eaten already, Harry excused himself from the table and his friends and went over to check on Dudley. Making his way over to the Hufflepuff table, using his cane, he followed Dudley's voice to find his brother. Save his family, Professor Snape and Draco, nobody really knew about his abilities. Sitting down by his cousin as fearful 1st year made room for Harry and his pet, he ruffled the blonde's hair.

"Congratulations Duds," Harry said quietly. Several Hufflepuffs first years whimpered as Hedwig slithered onto the table to explore a bit, but Harry took no notice.

"You had Mum and I scared to death, Harry," Duds answered. "When you didn't show up in the compartment, Mum went looking. She got the prefects involved and was about to go after the engineer to get us to turn back when Hedwig showed up."

"Sorry about that," Harry apologised. "I couldn't help it… was she mad?"

Harry couldn't see it, but by the way his words came out, Harry knew Dudley was smiling through his words. "She's waiting for you somewhere in the castle, after the feast."

Harry wanted nothing more than to thump his head on the table in frustration. Setting aside his dreaded meeting, Harry asked, "Are you alright Duds? It took so long to sort you… did the hat have any trouble?"

Dudley's voice became a little nervous again and he answered evasively, "It wasn't anything really. Can we talk about that later?"

"Sure Duds," Harry grinned as he called Hedwig back to him. "I'll see you later. It's almost time to head to our houses."

Returning to sit with Draco, they all sat through the singing of the school song, in which the twins sang along to the tune of a Christmas carol. Everyone got up and was being led towards their respective houses when he heard Professor Flitwick call him from the head table.

"Mr Potter!"

Touching Draco's arm in farewell, hopefully not for the last time, Harry walked up to the head table.

"Yes Professor?" Harry asked.

"If you'd come with me," Flitwick said in a sympathetic tone, "Your aunt is waiting for you in my office."

* * *

Chapter 4 all finished and ready--- Beta's still have to take a look at it. BTW, I'm still looking for experienced beta's interested in double checking my stories. the more help the better.

I'm going to start doing review responses at my yahoo group. Apparently ffnet admins dont like them here and i still want to answer when i can. the addy is on my profile page, or here groups(dot)yahoo(dot)com/group/hedwigsperch/

Oh yeah, and since Harry may fly this story, and may end up flying for any one of the houses, tell me which house you would want to see him flying for.


	5. Sometimes, No Defence is Best

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and related materials all belong to JKR. All I got was this lousy T-shirt.

Blind Faith 2, chapter 5 No Defence is Best

**(A/N Sorry updates are taking so long, life is making writing difficult for me. I'll probably go ahead and finish book 2 of Blind Faith before continuing with Druid's Apprentice, going back and forth just makes me write slower.**

**Oh yeah, and if anybody knows a good beta... HELP! this chapter was completely beta-less my old ones seem to have vanished.) **

Entering Professor Flitwick's office, Harry faltered on sensing his aunt's presence. Her aura was so full of anger and fear that it was almost unrecognisable.

"Aunt Petunia, I'm sorry about all the trouble-"

Crack!

Harry was stunned by the impact of Petunia's open palm across his cheek. He'd barely had the chance to raise one had and feel his stinging face when his aunt grabbed him with a strangled sob and pulled Harry tight against her chest, dragging Harry to his knees as her own legs became too weak to support her.

"You stupid boy," she choked out. "Never – never do that again."

"But Aunt Petunia," Harry said, trying to explain.

"You're all I have left!" Petunia Cried. "You and my Dudders are all the family we have. With all that happened to you last year, and now this... I have half a mind to take you out of this infernal school tonight and bugger the magical world!"

As Petunia raved on, Harry got progressively more worried about her. He knew that she would be upset by getting separated like that at King's Cross, but her reaction seemed a bit too much. Harry suspected that the violent deaths of so many of her immediate family may have had far more profound an effect than anyone thought. Not really sure how to help, Harry decided he needed to speak with Professor Snape about her as soon as he possibly could.

After Petunia had calmed down, Harry made several promises not to stray again, nor go looking for trouble. He sat with her for another half hour telling her about what had happened outside the platform along with his and Draco's little adventure in Hogsmeade.

When she had calmed enough, Harry and Professor Fl.itwick walked Petunia down to the entry hall, where Hagrid stood waiting to escort her back to the Shrieking Shack.

Giving his aunt one last hug, Harry turned and walked with his head of house as they went towards the Ravenclaw tower. As they did, Harry's curiosity got the better of him and he asked, "Professor, do you know why they split up the Merlins?"

"Unity"

"I don't understand," Harry replied.

"According to legend," Filius explained, "the founders erected Hogwarts over a thousand years ago. They didn't do it alone, however. It is said that Merlin himself lent a great portion of his magic to this place, making it one of the greatest magical strongholds in the world. Having put so much into the school's formation, he was given a certain say in how it was to be run. In the early years of Hogwarts, there were no houses. Instead, there were seven dormitories, each meant to house students of a particular year. For a time it worked just fine, the children attended their classes and things seemed well.

"Unfortunately, as it is with children and most adults for that matter, fights began to break out between the students." Harry could sense they were approaching the Ravenclaw tower and felt a pang of disappointment. He wanted to hear the rest of what the professor had to say. He was pleased, therefore, when Filius passed the portrait by and continued relating his tale.

"to minimize conflicts among the students, the founders created four houses, each exemplifying a set of traits that each of them favoured. Rowena Ravenclaw valued intelligence and logic; Godric Gryffindor believed that a wizard should be brave and bold; Helga Hufflepuff was the embodiment of hard work and loyalty; lastly, Salazar Slytherin preached that it was through ambition and guile that a wizard or witch would find his destiny.

"The students were re-divided and a hat of Godric's was charmed to read the children's mind and sort them into their proper houses. Life went on at the school and fights among the students did decrease. In its place, however, was an animosity between some of the newly formed houses that was nearly as bad.

"This is what Merlin came back to after years of travels. Seeing the unnecessary fighting as wasteful, he created the Merlin's Crest as a bridge between the houses. The crest was awarded to children that shared the traits of all houses in nearly equal proportions. He had hoped that his Merlins would act as ambassadors between them.

"Unfortunately, none of the houses trusted them, seeing each as a possible spy for the others. The students wearing the merlin's crest were shunned and belittled, regardless of what merlin or any of the founders did to try and make them see.

"Overwhelmed by the harassment, the Merlins refused to wear the crest. Seeing no other choice, the founders asked the sorting hat to quit awarding it. Disheartened by the short-sightedness of both students and staff, Merlin left the school and never returned."

"But why were we a house last year and not now?" Harry asked.

"We forgot," Filius answered. "It was so long ago that nobody remembered what the Merlins were supposed to be. We assumed that you would have your own house and function just as the others, it was only this summer, researching through archives sealed nearly since the schools creation, that we found the true history behind the crest.

By this time they had again come up to the portrait guarding Ravenclaw Tower. Wishing Professor Flitwick goodnight, Harry gave the password and headed up to the boy's dorms. Declining several offers to guide his way, the last bringing his temper up enough that it made Hedwig rise up with an angry hiss. Finding his room and bed, Harry quickly changed and slipped under the covers. The day had been long and exhausting; somehow he knew that that tomorrow would be no better.

Dawn's early light played across Harry's features as a solemn tune flowed hauntingly from his flute. The young Ravenclaw was sitting on the parapet of the Astronomy Tower with Hedwig and Loki both curled up on the stone beside him. The coatl gently swayed to the music Harry played, though he could only tell by the changing position of her rhythmic hissing.

One of Harry's true regrets is that he had never 'seen' Hedwig. The coatl had always been, and still was, invisible to the Ravenclaw's senses. The thought had occurred to him that he needed a magical photo of her, but Harry wasn't sure how to go about it.

Harry's situation with Loki was the exact opposite, however. Because of the miniature Dragon's chameleon-like ability, most of the time it was virtually invisible to everyone but Harry. The little Dragon glowed like a beacon to him, his magical signature growing stronger and more detailed every day. Loki sat, crooning along as his master played, stopping only when an unfortunate insect would wander just a bit too close and become part of breakfast.

"You play beautifully," said a feminine voice from nearby. "Sal was right when he said you had talent."

"Thanks," Harry answered. "Who are you?"

A sense of amusement washed over Harry as the mystery woman's aura slowly became visible. "Right to business then," she said. "I'm a friend of Sal's, you can call me Ro."

"Ro... Rowena Ravenclaw?"

"Just full of surprises this morning, aren't you Harry?" said Sal as he appeared before the Ravenclaw's senses.

A huge smile broke out on Harry's face at the sound of his mentor's voice. Sal had taught him more in their 'training' sessions than all of his professors put together. Not only that, but Harry thought of him as a true friend.

"So you know who we are, then?" asked Sal, his voice full of amusement.

"It wasn't that hard, really, I mean, Sal, Ric, Ro... Once I quit forgetting your names when you weren't around, it was so obvious! So, what do you call Helga Hufflepuff?"

"They call me mum," broke in a third voice as its owner gently lay her hands on his shoulders and rubbed them lightly. A warm feeling spread through Harry's entire body, energizing him as if he'd just drank a Pepperup Potion.

"That's nice," Harry sighed. "How do you do that?"

"Sal isn't the only one with things to teach you, Harry."

"But why me?" Harry asked with a frown. "Why would the founders, who've supposedly been dead for nearly a thousand years, want to teach me all this?"

"Well, firstly," Sal explained, "we are indeed the founders – after a fashion."

"What do you mean?"

"When we created Hogwarts, we put a little of ourselves into it. A bit of our blood was mixed with the mortar and we used our magic to gather and arrange the stones that she's built from. It was when the structure was finished, however, that we began truly making Hogwarts what it is. We had to imbue the castle with magic. Not just spells and wards, but to actually become a magical thing. There were weeks of rituals and castings, all leading up to her christening. In that final ceremony, we each split off a bit of our very souls and joined them with the castle."

"So you're like an echo of Salazar?"

"Far more than that, Harry," Sal explained. I am every bit what Salazar was when we split. My part just continued its life as one of Hogwarts custodians, while he kept on with our old body. The only restriction we have, is that we're bound to the school and its rules and magics. That's why I couldn't do more last term against Quirrell. He wasn't an outsider attempting to harm the school, he was a professor."

"So you're really them," Harry whispered. "You haven't said, though. Why are you bothering to teach me all this?"

"You have some unique gifts," hedged Sal with a smooth tone. "and we're teachers, even if we are 'retired'. I won't lie to you, there are some other reasons, but I'm going to hold off telling you about them for now, leave it to say, it's something we all want, and that you need."

"Are we still training in the mornings then?" Harry asked hopefully.

"Of course. You can even bring your blond friend along with you as he already knows we exist. No one else though. We value our privacy, if it becomes known to others we're here, we'll never get any peace. Time is getting away from you, however, It's nearly time for breakfast." Harry's mentor said as he pulled the boy to his feet. "Remember, tomorrow at the room of requirement as usual."

Bidding his mentors farewell, Harry wandered down the steps of the Astronomy tower. He'd wanted to stay, there were a million questions floating around in his head, all begging for answers. He knew, however, that there wasn't time now, and tomorrow's training would come soon enough. Along with that, another voice, a bit lower in his body, and currently much louder than the ones with questions, was telling him that breakfast would be a good thing.

Making it to the great hall with his cane leading the way, Harry at the Merlin table, he noticed that neither Draco or any of the other Slytherins were present. The rest of the Merlins were there, however, and busily discussing what had happened the night before.

"Morning Harry," said Terry, the other Merlin from Ravenclaw. "Where did you go this morning. When I went to get you up, you were already gone."

"I was stargazing," Harry replied smoothly. He'd half expected some sarcastic comment from Draco, and was a bit disappointed when it didn't come. "Where are the Slytherins?"

"Looks like they're at the table with the rest of their house," Terry answered. "They don't look very happy about it either."

Harry grimaced, wondering what the problem could be. He was about to get up and head over when he found himself wrestling with Hedwig. Post owls had just arrived and the coatl was struggling madly to go up and 'play' with her friends. Remembering last years problems, Harry held on to his pet firmly until the last owl found a roost.

As he'd tried to keep Hedwig under control, Harry couldn't help but notice two powerfully glowing letters being delivered. To his inner eye they were little red suns with yellow and white sparks erupting from them faster and faster. One was dropped at the Gryffindor table, and the other, their own.

Neville, the recipient of the odd letter let out a squeak of fear as he stared at his post. "It's a howler-"

"Best get it over with," suggested somebody further down the table. "It'll only get worse."

Trembling in anticipation of what was to come, Neville used his butter knife to slit open the envelope and release the letter's magic. As if synchronized, Ron opened his at the same time and a pair of furious female voices rang out through the hall.

"Ronald Bilius Weasley!"

"Neville!"

"How could you?"

"What were you thinking?"

"Your father's car!"

"Your parent's would be so disappointed."

The dressing down went on for a full two minutes. Each new tirade seemed to push Neville lower in his seat, until at the end, only his hair was visible over the table top. When the magical missives finally ended and exploded in balls of confetti, everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Feeling a bit sorry for Neville, Harry was about to try saying something comforting when he was distracted by the arrival of Professor Flitwick.

"I have your time tables, declared Harry's Head of House as he handed them to his Merlins.

Casually running his hand over his new schedule, Harry paused, and did it again with a frown on his face.

"Professor?" Harry asked. As he stepped away from the table.

"What can I do for you?" Flitwick asked with a bit of apprehension in his voice.

"I think there's a problem with my schedule. They forgot to put me down for Defence Against Dark Arts this term."

"Ah," answered Filius after a pause. "Well, you see Harry, after a long discussion between the Headmaster and the rest of the staff, we thought it best that you forgo DADA for a few terms. You can see that Professor Dumbledore has you down for class in the Hospital Wing with Madam Pomfrey while the rest of your classmates are in Defence."

"What about me, though, Don't I get to learn to defend myself?"

"You're a healer, Harry," Said Dumbledore, who'd approached unnoticed while Harry had been busy with Professor Flitwick. "You have a natural talent that should be nurtured and made to flourish. That being the case, we're just tailoring your classes to suit your eventual profession. In a few years, we'll do some basic defence classes as part of your healers training. For now, though, it really isn't necessary."

"But..."

"This is not negotiable, Mr Potter," the headmaster interrupted. "Your Transfiguration and Charms work last term were barely acceptable. I'm going to ask you to trust me in that I know what's best for my students."

Far from happy with the situation, but knowing that he wasn't going to budge the headmaster, Harry grumpily agreed to try his new schedule. Grumbling under his breath, Harry was about to excuse himself when Professor Dumbledore added, "You remember Remus Lupin, don't you Harry? He met you at your last birthday party, I believe. It turns out that he's been quite ill lately and under considerable stress. I'd ask you to take any communications you receive with a grain of salt. The years have been hard on Mr Lupin since your parent's deaths, and I'm afraid he's seeing shadows where they don't exist."

Harry paused a moment, waiting for a further explanation. He didn't remember ever meeting Lupin before his birthday party,and though Harry did admit that Remus had looked a bit under the weather, the picture painted by the headmaster in no way matched the man he'd spent a good part of that day with. Apparently finished with their conversation, the professor told Harry to head for his first class and enjoy the day as he turned to leave.

"What was that all about?" Terry asked as Harry sat back down. Studying his face, he asked more quietly, "What's wrong?"

"They took me out of DADA," growled Harry vehemently. "Dumbledore said I wouldn't need it."

"That's crazy! It's not just about preparing for a job, Defence is about being able to protect yourself from dark magic or creatures you could run into anywhere!"

"He wouldn't even allow me to question it, Harry answered in agreement. "I think he expects me to live the rest of my life with Aunt Petunia protecting me."

"Then we'll just have to keep you up outside classes," Terry declared as they headed for their first class. "Have you looked through any of the new defence books yet?"

"I never got a chance. After we bought them in Diagon Alley, we spent the rest of holiday packing for our move, why?"

"They're worthless," Terry spat. "He spends more time talking about how he styles his hair, than what he did to defeat the monsters he talks about in them.

"You have him this afternoon?" Harry asked. That's my first healing class."

"Yeah, last period," answered Terry as they reached the classroom and took a table together. "Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays. The Ravenclaws double with Hufflepuff."

"Could you meet me in the new common room after class lets out?" Harry continued, "I just want to know what he covered."

Before Terry could answer, Professor McGonagall bustled into the room and started her class. Lessons this year would revolve around transfiguring living things into inanimate objects, then back again. Their lesson that day was to change a mouse into a teacup.

Harry grinned to himself as he ran his senses over the mouse he'd been given. He hadn't gotten a chance to read ahead of class, but Harry had done so much research the previous term that he felt he could do this with little problem. It also helped he was starting with something alive. He could sense the mouse easily and direct the magic to his wishes with little problem.

While not first to complete the transfiguration, that honour went to Mandy Brocklehurst, Harry was one of the first few. Last term, Harry had been working with the Gryffindors in many of his classes. Now, surrounded by his fellow Ravenclaws, he really began to notice the differences between the two houses. Gryffindors were easily frustrated and acted out , sometimes angrily, when things didn't go their way. Ravenclaw's were a bit more patient, and would simply go back to researching a spell if it didn't work properly. Sometimes, however, they buried themselves in their books and lost sight of their original goal as they continued to dig up new facts.

Harry saw himself somewhere in between the two, perhaps with a little Hufflepuff persistence thrown in. Still, Harry thought he liked working with the Ravenclaws best. It was nice as well that there was no intense rivalry between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, unlike the other two houses. Both seemed more focused on the class and their subject matter than how they looked in front of the other house. They continued transfiguring the mouse to a teacup and back for the rest of the period, until the bell sounded for their next class.

On their way to Herbology, Harry and some of the other Ravenclaws were nearly run over by some second year Gryffindors being chased by tiny flying creatures with blue and purple auras. Some of the pixies began to zip around the group when one of them, recognising Harry's cane and glasses and mistaking them for a weakness, dived, screaming at Harry trying to scare him.

Months of training with Sal had Honed Harry's reflexes, however, and he snatched the little blue pixie out of the air before it even realized it had been caught.

"Bloody hell," breathed Terry. "How did you do that?"

"Do what?" Harry asked as he released the irate little monster.

Free, the the little pixie zipped a safe distance from Harry and turned with and evil expression on its face. Moments later, however its blue face went completely white as a serpentine head rose out of the folds in Harry's robe and regarded the its potential snack with interest. Harry didn't know much about these creatures, but he could guess that its little heart must have nearly stopped at the sight of Hedwig licking her chops. It restarted quickly enough, however and the pixie flew away screaming as Hedwig launched herself from his shoulders and flew off in pursuit of the little monster, with Loki close behind, screeching in excitement.

The Ravenclaws stood a moment in silence, then broke into giggles as they ran on to their next class. After their first encounter, there was little to be seen of the pixies, as they seemed to be more interested in hiding than causing problems.

Harry made it through Herbology with a bit of difficulty. They were working with infant Mandrakes and because their ears had to be covered, Harry had to pretend to do everything by feel. It was difficult, and though their screeching could knock you out, Harry didn't find it all dangerous, at least not compared to lunch in the great hall."

From the Slytherin's behaviour at breakfast, Harry guessed that they planned on keeping their Merlins from mixing with the other houses. Through Lucius' manipulations last year, Harry had nearly lost his friendship with Draco, though in the end, neither Malfoy Sr, nor the machinations of Voldemort himself could keep them apart. Harry wasn't about to let a few Slytherin upper-classmen get between them now.

Murmuring a quick explanation to Terry and the other Merlins, he got up and made his way over to the Slytherin table. Making a show of using his cane to navigate across the great hall. Harry cleared his throat as he reached the Slytherin table and asked about his friends.

"Have any of you seen Draco, Blaise or Millicent? They weren't at breakfast today, and I was getting worried."

"You should worry about your own house, Ravenclaw," snarled one of the upper-classmen. Flint was his name, Harry was almost sure. "They're not Merlins anymore, they're Slytherin. Besides, they're not here, they're eating together in our common room to avoid your lot."

"From down the table there came a muffled squeak and a murmured '_Silencio'. _ That alone would have raised Harry's suspicions. Having his inner sight, however, Harry was more than capable of sensing his friends presence, though they were being held in place by their housemates.

Moving down the table in his friends direction, Harry continued to talk to Flint, who'd risen as Harry passed and was stalking threateningly behind him.

"You know, it's odd," Harry said, "Draco's dad bought him some really expensive cologne from the orient last Christmas. Awful stuff, smells like a wet goat to me, but Draco loves the stuff. He wears it every day and never shares a drop."

Stopping beside his silenced friends, Harry made a show of taking a deep breath and wrinkling his nose. "Odd," he said in mock confusion. "I smell it now." Reaching out to search for the person wearing the cologne, Harry let his hand come in contact with the boundary of the silencing spell. Like he had with Hermione's binding spell and the geas charm, Harry quickly unravelled the simple spell and banished it.

"Draco," Harry said in mock surprise, "why didn't you come sit with the Merlins?"

Sounding a bit uncomfortable, Draco answered, "It was decided that we weren't Slytherin enough and needed to be around them more."

"Really, Professor Snape said that?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"I said that," growled Flint as he took Harry's shoulder roughly and spun him around. It was very nearly the last thing he ever did, however, as Hedwig appeared, almost magically, between the two boys, hovering, and preparing to spit her venom into Flint's eyes.

"Hedwig! Harry said with joy, doing nothing to restrain the serpent. Flint, you've met my pet, haven't you? She's a coatl. They're great, she's super smart and delivers mail faster than any owl, more reliable too. No one can take a message from her because she can spit venom. It's nasty stuff. Its like acid and would burn through a man's body in less than a minute. They'd be dead already though, the poison in it would stop your... I mean it would stop its victims heart a second after it hit their blood. She's safe though, I mean it's not like she'd do it to anybody. They'd have to do something threatening to her or somebody she cares about."

Flint's face, which had gone a bit pale when the coatl appeared, was now bone white as Hedwig bobbed and weaved less than a foot from his face. Taking a step back from her, Flint turned to Harry and said in a shaky, and barely threatening tone, "She can't be around you all the time."

"Oh, but that's just it, she won't. I came over here because she and Draco got on famously last year and she missed him. I was going ask if he would let her stay with him for while." Hedwig, apparently understanding her master's words, turned away from Flint, who looked ready to collapse in relief and looked at Harry in askance.

"It's just for a while, girl." Harry replied. "Some people need a little bit of help accepting new situations." Nodding to her master's words, Hedwig flew over and wrapped herself across Draco's shoulders before sneaking under his collar and slipping inside his shirt. Harry took the opportunity created when the Slytherins nearest Draco scooted away, and sat down by his friend. The blond tried desperately not to lose his cool as the coatl tickled his entire upper body while she made herself comfortable.

When she'd finally settled, Draco turned to his friend and asked in a hesitant, yet hopeful voice, do you mean it? About Hedwig I mean."

"Of course I do. She really does miss you, you know. And I'm not letting some seventh year tell me who I can and can't be friends with."

A smile broke out on Draco's face that Harry felt, rather than saw. It quickly clouded over, though as a new thought came over him.

"What do you mean, I smell like a wet goat?"

Harry laughed at the sound of several people choking on their pumpkin juice, while Draco stared daggers at him. "Only a little!" he snickered. I think maybe you put on a bit much."

Unintentionally, Draco had broken the ice for conversation around the table, and Harry sat with the Slytherins as they finished their lunch. Chatting Merrily with the other Merlins, Harry slowly pulled some of the younger Slytherins into the conversation, arguing, as always, over Quidditch.

So what did you think of Lockhart as a defence teacher, asked Harry, bringing the subject back to their school work.

"It's a bigger joke than I feared," the blond answered in disgust. He gave us a pop-quiz and it had questions about what his birthday was and what was his favourite colour. The next thing we know, he's set a cage full of Cornish pixies loose in the classroom and he cant control them. He left it for us to try and put them back, so we left."

"I'm suddenly glad I don't have him," Harry sighed.

"You don't?" who's teaching you defence then?"

"Nobody," Harry shrugged. Professor Dumbledore seems to think that I'll never need to know it, so he's replaced it in my schedule with classes in the infirmary."

Confusion dominated Draco's aura as he muttered, "I'd thought defence was required at least through fifth year."

"Apparently not for me, " Harry answered, his voice tinged with bitterness. "Dumbledore apparently thinks the class would be too dangerous."

"So you're just going to accept that?" Draco asked in disbelief.

"Hardly," Harry answered after taking another drink of pumpkin juice. "I'll study defence in my free time, then there's the mornings," he added quietly. 'You've been invited as well. I was going to try and follow along with the class, just reading through the assigned books, but from what Terry told me, I might have to find another text.

It was at that moment, Harry's skin started to crawl. It wasn't a feeling like he was in danger, more like being watched. Reaching out with his senses, Harry noticed somebody standing nearby, radiating nervous excitement.

Draco, who'd noticed Harry's initial tension, asked, "What?"

"What can I do for you Colin," Harry called over his shoulder. "I know you're there. I can smell the flash-powder on your clothes."

Colin hiccuped in fear at being caught out, though having the entire Slytherin table now staring at him didn't help much. Screwing up his courage, the spindly boy came over to stand by Harry.

"Hi," began the first year haltingly. "I'm Colin Creevey, I'm in Gryffindor..." Colin's face turned bright red as he realized that Harry had already called him by name. Evil snickers and sneezes that sounded suspiciously like 'Gryffindork' ran up and down the table as the first year tried to keep from running away.

Taking Pity on him, Harry asked, "What can I do for you Colin?"

Holding up something small in his hands, Colin answered, "I was... I was wondering if I could have a picture."

"A what?"

"A picture," the Creevey boy said again, becoming more animated as he spoke, "to prove I really met you. I take pictures of everything at home. Dad says I'll be a reporter or something when I'm older. Anyway I heard all about how You-Know-Who tried to kill you when you were little and that you beat him. I thought it would be great to get your picture. A boy in my dormitory said that if I develop it in the right potion, that it moves! I couldn't believe it, I didn't believe in magic either before I got my letter. My dads the same, he's a milk man. I'm taking loads of pictures to send him. You think your friend would take a picture of the two of us and you could sign it?"

Dead silence reigned at the Slytherin table for a handful of heartbeats. A few, Harry was sure, were still trying to figure out all of what excited boy had actually said. Most of them, however, were waiting for Draco's reaction to being asked to perform house elf duties.

The Malfoy heir, for his part, seemed stunned beyond reason. He sat staring at Colin like the Gryffindor had grown a second head. Feeling the swirl of emotions coming from his friend, Harry had never wished more that he could still see. The look on Draco's face had to be priceless. Any amusement Harry felt toward the situation dimmed, however, as Draco started to become angrier.

"Draco," Harry said lightly as possible. "He didn't mean anything, he's just excited." Turning to Colin, and fighting an insane fit of giggles, he said, "You're the first person to actually ask if they could take my picture. I'll tell you what, I'll let take a few, but I don't think Draco is interested in helping. No more after this though, and no autographs."

"Autographs?" asked a pompous and all too familiar voice. "Who's signing autographs?" Professor Lockhart stepped up to the table, completely missing glares from the Slytherins. Apparently he'd been on his way out of the hall when he'd heard their conversation.

"Oh," Lockhart said, finally seeing the Merlins among the Slytherins. "I should have known, Hello, Harry. Getting a few shots in for you fans?" The professor clapped his hands down on Harry's shoulders, missing the sudden tension in them and the eerie green light that began to glow behind his glasses.

"Don't touch me," Harry said in a forced-calm voice.

"Nonsense my boy, let's give the lad a thrill. The Boy Who Lived and Gilderoy Lockhart together as a team."

"I said, Don't touch me!" Growled Harry, loud enough to be heard throughout the hall as a fat spark of energy seemed to leap from his shoulders and burn the professor's hands. Yelping in fear and pain, Gilderoy was completely unaware of Professor Snape's approach until the potions master had him by the arm.

"Professor Lockhart," he said through gritted teeth. Please come with me to the headmaster's office – now." Pulling the other professor so hard that both feet nearly left the ground, Snape left the Great Hall without another word.

Draco, turning back to Harry, said, "Sometimes you're a little Scary. You really should ask one of the Professors about your eyes though."

"What about them?"

"That's the second time I've seen them glowing like that since the end of summer holidays. I've never seen anybody do that before."

Shrugging non-committally, Harry asked Draco to meet him after classes in the new common room before heading towards the hospital wing.

For all his complaints about missing out on Defence classes for healing, Harry found his second year classes in the infirmary to be both challenging and fun. First year they'd gone through simple first-aid spells and potions. Now, however, the true work began. Poppy outlined the first half of their term as an intense study of human and non-human anatomy. The second half would be a study of magical cores and how they affected, and were affected by a wizard or witches physical condition.

When she showed him his course books, Harry was actually grateful that she refused to let him take them from the infirmary. Several of the giant tomes had to weigh more than he did. He was tempted to ask her about his eyes, but in the end he decided to wait and ask Sal in the morning. He didn't want Poppy any more curious about him than she already was.

When his time there was done, Harry went back to the Merlin Common Room. Entering, he noticed how very different it had become now that it was to be a central meeting place for all the houses. He'd entered it through a door in the Ravenclaw common room. From what he'd heard, there were similar doors, newly placed in the common room of each house.

From what his senses told him, each door was placed at one of the four cardinal points in the huge circular room. Along the wall between the doors were couches, tables and cushy chairs, all arranged to make the room open, yet give giving the students little nooks where they could gather to study. At the centre of the room was a huge open hearth, easily twenty feet across, with a low fire burning in it at all times.

Settling himself in one of the chairs by the fire, Harry pulled one of Lockhart's books out of his bag of holding, _Wandering with Werewolves_ and began to read. After ten minutes, Harry closed the book in disgust and tossed it into the fire before pulling out another , to begin reading all over again.

This was how Terry and Draco found him some time later. Sitting curled up in a chair, a huge pile of ash in the fire beside him and an unfamiliar book in his lap.

"What are you reading? Asked Draco as he sat down in another chair across from Harry.

"It's a defence book. I bought it when we were in Diagon Alley that day we met up."

"I thought you were going to try and follow us with Lockhart's books."

Grimacing, Harry answered, "I was going to, but then I read them. The man is an idiot. None of them made any real sense. It was written like some trashy romance novel. Anyway, I got rid of them and decided I'd look through some other books I bought."

"Different Defence books?" asked Terry as he plopped down on the arm of Harry's chair. What kind? Ooh, VanHelsing's _Creatures of the Dark_! I've always wanted to read this! You think we can go through it together? I ought to get some kind of defence training this year anyway."

"Stand in line, Boot" Draco nearly snarled. "I was here first, If Harry studies with anybody, it'll be me."

"Why don't we all do it together," Harry called out in exasperation, before a real fight could break out. There's a lot to cover anyway and Draco can probably have his dad find another copy or two. We'll go through the other ones I bought and maybe pick a couple more we can study together."

"Er... right," said both Terry and Draco, both embarrassed that they hadn't thought to work as a team. Pulling out a piece of parchment, Draco brightened and put it in Harry's hand. "This is from Professor Snape, he cornered me earlier and asked that I get it to you. Something about you needing it before the weekend."

Opening the note with a small frown, Harry ran his fingers over the parchment while reading it with his inner sight as well. His frown disappeared immediately, to be replaced by an excited grin.

"He found it!"

"Found what?" the other two asked in confusion.

"Draco, remember I told you that Severus was looking up a spell for me, _Animadvirto de sanus. _Severus found the wand movements for it. This is my way to try out for the house team! I can play Quidditch!

* * *

So, what do you guys think, should the DA get its beginnings in Harry's second year? also, obviously, Harry will be trying out for quidditch next chapter. who should get him? and what did you think about my founders exp? more to come on that. 

as always, R&R

Oh yea, and remember, review responses, if i can get to them, will be at : groups(dot)yahoo(dot)com/group/hedwigsperch/


	6. Lessons

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and related materials all belong to JKR. All I got was this lousy T-shirt.

Sorry for the delay guys, a lot of things have been curtailing my writing, not to mention that this is a 'wordy' chapter (sorry, no Quidditch tryouts this chappie) bear with me, and I'll try and have ch7 out soon.

Blind Faith 2, chapter 6: Lessons.

There were only four days left to the weekend and Quidditch try-outs but to Harry it seemed like an eternity. His memories of soaring through the air last year with Draco, and the exhilaration that came with it, filled Harry's thoughts and drove him to master the Sound-To-Sight spell. By the end of the week, he knew he would be ready. First, however, there were lessons to be had.

Harry stood with a half dozing Draco just outside the room of requirement. Both Hedwig and Loki remained asleep in each of the boy's rooms, forbidden to come help their master. Pacing past the door the required three times, Harry wished for his training room with Sal, and opened the door, crossing into darkness.

The biggest problem with Harry's senses was that he couldn't easily sense non-living, or non-magical objects. With work, however, Sal had promised that he would come to do so with as much ease as 'live' things. To do this, they needed a place that was shielded against magic, or that could mask it from him; Sal had suggested the Room of Requirement.

In a hidden room across from the painting of Barnabas the Barmy, Harry and Sal had spent the better part of last year training in body and mind. Sal was a hard master and pushed Harry to his limits. Far beyond exercise and meditation, Sal sought to i _encourage_ /i Harry's sight by tossing tennis balls at him at odd times or sparring with him using wooden practice swords. Though Sal had suggested it, and forced him to do the drills regularly, Harry could sense that his mentor didn't like using it as a training tool. If he didn't know better, Harry could almost swear that Sal 'hated' the sparring sessions.

There had been progress, though it hadn't been easy. Forced to dodge tennis balls and obstacles that he couldn't 'see', Harry had made his first breakthrough shortly after Christmas Holidays. He'd consciously dodged an obstacle that he couldn't see with utter ease. The distraction caused by his success sent him crashing into the next one, however, leaving Harry face down on the room's soft floor.

Today was to be another first, however. As his 'sight' returned to normal, Sal was stepping up his training by adding the distraction of another living being to the training. Harry would be working and training with his friend, Draco Malfoy.

Knowing that Sal wouldn't show himself yet, Harry explained that they'd start out with stretches and running circuits of the room's perimeter. Initially Draco was able to keep up easily with the slow jog that Harry started off with. Hoping to make the Slytherin house team, Draco had haltingly attempted training routines he'd read about in Quidditch magazines... at least until he became bored with them. Still, he felt confident he'd be able to keep up with Harry, at least until the Ravenclaw actually started running.

The first circuits had been easy. Harry ran slow, running his hand along the wall as he re-familiarized himself with the course. Starting the third time around, Harry dropped his hand from the wall and took off in earnest. Grinning to himself at Harry's attempt to outrun him with a 'sprint', Draco took off after his friend. It was only two circuits later, as Draco stumbled along, breathing coarsely and was lapped by Harry – again, that Draco realized there was more work to this than he'd planned.

While trying not to show it, Harry was having difficulties of his own. Draco's presence was turning out to be more of a distraction than he'd originally thought. His friend's aura stood out like a beacon in the magically dampened room and made it more difficult to distinguish other objects there. Still, as they ran, Harry found it progressively easier to avoid obstacles that had begun appearing in their path. He'd only fallen once; after a few more stumbles, he became more aware of the 'dead' objects in the room.

They'd been running for only thirty minutes and Harry was beginning to work up a sweat, while Draco was stumbling along the wall, breathing like a creaky bellows. Harry was just about to take pity on his friend and call a halt, when Sal appeared in the room and beat him to it.

"Harry, Draco, come here," the founder bade them as he created a large open space in the centre of the room. "You made a lot of progress last year," Sal said as he pulled out the practice swords. "Before your little confrontation with Voldemort, you were able to block most of my attacks when we sparred. Since then, I think your senses have recovered enough that we can begin again and take the next step."

Handing a wooden weapon to each boy, Sal addressed Draco. "I want you to honestly try and hit Harry where ever you can. His job will be to block your attacks. Don't hold back, and remember that Harry will be fighting back." Though Sal seemed confident in Harry's abilities, the blond Slytherin seemed less-so.

"This isn't really fair, you know," complained Draco as he handled the weapon distastefully. "I mean Harry just got his aura sight working again and you said that mine will distract him – he won't be able to defend himself."

"Hey!"

"Let's give Harry some credit," Sal soothed as he placed a placating hand on the Ravenclaw's shoulder. "He's been training for the better part of a year to become sensitive to magical objects. He's put a lot of effort into getting where he is, and when he masters it, we can move on to the next level of his training."

"It's alright," Harry added, trying to keep his irritation with Draco out of his voice. "I can really do this, but I need your help.

"Go on," urged Sal as he backed away from the two, a slightly strained expression on his face was totally missed by Draco. "You don't have to swing your hardest, just try and hit him."

"Do whatever you want," Harry said with a feral grin as he fell into a ready stance. "Just so you know, I'll be trying to hit you back."

Though reluctant to chance hurting his best friend, Draco could never back down from a challenge. A predatory gleam sparked itself in his eyes and he took a slightly different guard stance than Harry; it was obvious he'd had some formal training with a sword.

"You asked for it," Draco crowed as he swung his weapon at his best friend in a quick, but underpowered blow. His elation at the new game turned to horror as Harry, seeming to sense the practice sword a moment too late, reacted slowly and was only able to soften the blow with his own blade.

"Sorry!" yelped Draco with a mortified look. "Look, maybe he isn't ready yet... he couldn't block me."

"But he did," replied Sal with a forced smile. "He just didn't do it quickly enough. No skill is learned perfectly on the first try. It will take time for him to differentiate between living, magical, and non-magical objects. Harry won't learn, however, by being insulated. He's come this far with similar lessons, now he needs your help to take that next step. The question is, are you strong enough to help him?"

Harry, for his part, had rubbed feeling back into his shoulder and had returned to a ready stance. "Come on, Draco, I'm fine." Taking advantage of his friend's distraction, Harry reached out with his sword and gave Draco a light tap on his backside.

Forgetting his earlier misgivings after the slightly stinging blow, Draco brought up his own and answered in mock anger, "So that's how you want to play it then? Let's try this again!"

The two boys resumed their places and began the sparring session again. Belying his earlier challenge, Draco started slower at first, telegraphing his strikes and giving ample time for Harry to respond. It took a reminder from Sal that no one in the real world would give Harry that kind of consideration to finally make the blond increase both the speed and strength of his attacks.

Harry's defence weakened slightly at first as Draco began to push harder, but quickly recovered. His confidence increased and the raven-haired boy began returning his friends attacks with equal vigour.

Minutes passed in relative silence. The only sounds in the room was the clacking of practice swords against each other and the grunts of the boys as they put real effort into their sparring. As their fight progressed, Harry became more confident, though it was obvious from his stance, that Sal had never taught him proper form. Finally, the uneven rhythm of their duel was interrupted by a meaty thwack, followed by a howl of pain.

"I'm Sorry!"

"You're going about this all wrong," commented Ric as he appeared leaning against the wall beside Sal. The two custodians watched in amused silence for a time as Harry chased a blubbering Draco, who was hopping about the stage while clutching his injured leg.

"The boys would be better served to learn the proper use of those weapons, for their own safety at least."

"Those weapons are archaic," grumbled Sal. "They'd do nothing but get in the way in a modern fight. If it weren't for their usefulness in Harry's training his senses, I'd never have considered using them."

"You said it yourself; Harry was started down this path last year when you began teaching him. Martial combat is the best way to hone his senses and improve his reflexes, strength and endurance... I know the real reason why you don't want to do it this way, but the boy needs this training – keeping him from it won't bring back Sethias, you know."

Ignoring the sharp glare from Sal, Ric went on. "I understand your pain, Sal. Godric lost more than one of his sons then as well."

"It's not the same!" Sal growled quietly. Godric had his children after we split, Seth was i _my_ /i son, I helped deliver him, I was the first to hold him – it was my training that..."

Taking his friend by the shoulders, Ric softly interrupted, "Harry isn't Seth. The training we're giving him isn't to fight; we're teaching him how to survive. What happened to your son was terrible, almost an ending of sorts... Harry can be a new beginning." Glancing at the two boys, Ric nodded in their direction. "Look."

Harry had finally stopped Draco and helped him to a sitting position. Though covered by layers of clothing, it was obvious from Draco's pained expression that the blow had been a strong one. Placing his hands gently on the blonde's thigh, Harry knit his brows in concentration as a green fire began to burn in his eyes. A golden glow surrounded Draco and he slumped in relief.

"Dumbledore is wrong about a great many things," Sal whispered. "There is one thing where he was right. The boy is a natural healer. Harry doesn't have it in him to kill – I hope that never changes."

The two watched as Harry and Draco got into a pushing match that quickly turned into play, as they wrestled on the mats. Grinning at the two boys as they laughed and fought for the upper hand, Ric said, "Go and get them before they wear themselves out. I'll begin training them tomorrow."

Taking a few steps toward Harry, Sal turned and said, "Ric... when you train him –"

"The Scimitar, I know."

Feeling freer than he had in some time, Sal went to collect his students for the next part of Harry's training.

"This is pointless," whined Draco they all sat cross-legged in a small circle a short while later. "Why are we doing this, anyway?"

"Harry is practising his meditation, while you are learning. Only through a calm mind can a wizard hope to find their magic within them."

"What tripe," the blond Slytherin complained. "If I want to call my magic, I just pull out my wand."

"And if you don't have it?"

"Of course I'd have it," Draco snorted. "What kind of wizard wouldn't have their wand on them?"

Oblivious to the debate between his mentor and Draco, Harry's consciousness floated in a sea of nothingness. Harry exercised the skill that Sal had taught him. Divorcing himself from all external sensation, he'd gone into a deep trance. He was looking for a shining star that represented his magical core. As he drifted, he felt warmth, a tingling drawing him in one direction. Following the feeling, Harry felt it spread over him, and he could sense a lightening of the darkness ahead. He could almost –

"Harry!"

Harry was snapped out of his trance by Draco's loud exclamation. "That's it! That's the glow Harry's doing with his eyes all the time anymore."

"Wha –" the Ravenclaw asked. "What happened?"

"From the looks of it," Sal answered. "You got a step closer to locating your magical core. You'd have probably gotten a bit closer, but young master Draco became so excited when your eyes began to glow, that he woke up from you trance a bit early."

"Sorry," Draco said, sounding not the least bit. "It's just that Harry's been doing the eye glow thing since this summer... Do you know what it is?"

Though blushing at all the attention he was getting, Harry had to admit he was a bit curious himself. "It seems to happen mostly when I'm upset, but I guess when I'm doing strong magic too. I've never heard of anybody else doing it."

"Well relax Harry, it's nothing harmful, this is just a physical manifestation of your ability to focus magic within yourself."

"My what," Harry asked in confusion.

"Well, you know that all living things have a magical core, though only witches, wizards and magical creatures are able to access it through a focus. Back before the founding of Hogwarts, most witches and wizards channelled magic directly through their bodies. This was the best way, as it allowed for faster casting, a more powerful spell, and no need for an outside focus. The downside was that it was a lot of work to learn how to focus their inner magic, and even when they did, it was extremely taxing. Over time, the wizarding world learned that using talismans or wands was easier, as the outer focus did much of the work for them. It's gotten to the point that most modern wizards don't even believe they can cast a spell without a wand," this was said with a cutting glare at Draco. "Though some more powerful wizards, like Dumbledore and Voldemort, still use it.

"A manifestation of wandless magic is often an aura either around the entire being of the caster, or in many cases, some body part, such as the hands or eyes. Voldemort has glowing red eyes, while Dumbledore has a twinkle, that while most people see it as a knowing humour, it is actually a magical aura that makes people around him feel at ease.

"You, Harry, are a special case. Not specifically because of your blindness, but because you developed your aura sight in compensation. You've been in indirect contact with your core since a few months after the accident. Because of that, you've developed your wandless magic to a certain extent through your healing abilities. After your battle with Quirrell last term, you became more closely linked with your core, almost making contact. Because of that, you have begun having manifestations of your potential. With a little practice, you'll be able to learn to turn it on and off at will."

"Great," quipped Draco. "We'll hang you off the tree at Christmas, Harry.

"Oh Ha," growled the Ravenclaw. "So I either have my dead-fish eyes or Christmas lights, wonderful..."

"Take off your glasses, if you would," Sal asked gently.

Knowing that both of them had seen his scarred eyes many times before, Harry had little problem doing as his mentor asked. He was a little surprised, then, when Draco made a surprised gulping noise.

"What?"

"Your mum's eyes were green, weren't they?" asked the blond Slytherin.

"You've seen the picture, yeah."

"You've got your mother's eyes."

"What? How did..."

"I don't know how," Draco answered. "But I can see through the scarring, it's not so bad now. You've got your mum's eyes."

"The magic is fixing your eyes the best it can," Sal explained. "It won't bring your sight back, too much has changed for your eyes to work like other peoples ever again, but I think that in time, they'll look like they did before the accident."

Seeing that Harry was going to have a teary moment, Sal said, "Training is finished for today. You two take as much time to pull yourselves together, and Ric and I will see you both in the morning. With that, Sal vanished, leaving Draco sitting by his friend awkwardly patting his back as Harry pulled himself back together..

Potions that day was a bit of a let down at first for Harry. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff doubled the class period, just like the other two houses did. He'd hoped that they would be further along than the Gryffindor/Slytherin class had been last year; they were – just not by much.

When classes had let out last term, Harry's evening sessions with Severus had them just short of finishing third year curriculum. Now, sitting in with the other second years, Harry felt bored out of his skull. The hair lengthening potion they were to make was simple. He knew the ingredients and procedure by heart. Several times during the lecture, Harry caught himself silently reciting Snape's speech along with the professor. It went on for the better part of the lecture, until he was caught out.

"Mr. Potter," said Snape irritably. "Are you talking to someone oat the back of the class?"

"Er – no sir," Harry answered with a flaming face.

"Then please endeavour to keep your mouth closed when not answering a question."

With a wave of his wand, the potions-master made the instructions for the hair lengthening potion appear on the board and addressed the class. "You have one hour to complete your assignment. Mr. Potter, Please step up to my desk and bring your bag."

The other students scrambled to gather their ingredients while Harry made his way to Snape's desk.

"Yes Professor?" Harry asked as he scanned Severus' aura. As usual, the professor's Occlumency shields prevented Harry from sensing any significant emotion from him. He could, however, tell by the relatively relaxed state of them, that Severus wasn't hiding any intense feelings such as anger.

With a quick wave of his wand, Snape created a bubble of silence around them, making it difficult for casual eavesdropping. "You were reciting my lecture along with me," the professor said quietly. "Were you simply mocking me, or were you really that bored with my teaching?"

Harry gaped like a fish for a few moments, struggling for an answer that he hoped wouldn't anger his teacher, until he felt tiny hints of amusement leaking around Snape's shields.

"You don't have to answer," Snape said as Harry let out a sigh of relief. "I know we covered all this last term. I'll expect you down here twice a week in the evenings to keep you challenged. As for class-time," Snape seemed to pause as he considered his words before continuing.

"I'd like to ask you a favour."

"A favour," Harry repeated uncertainly. He couldn't think of a thing that Snape could need from him.

"There are a minority of students in my first and second year classes that don't respond well to my teaching methods." The professor waited patiently while Harry fought down a snort of laughter. "As I was saying," he said with an edge of annoyance in his voice. "Many of the muggleborns and even some of the purebloods don't seem to know the basics of ingredient preparation. I was hoping that you could review ahead of each class and perhaps tutor some of the less adept students."

"You want me to help you teach?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"To an extent, yes," Severus replied. I don't expect you to go so far as to let your own classes suffer, but any time you can spend with my weaker students could save both time and a few cauldrons from melting.

Smiling lightly, Harry accepted, "I'd like that very much. I would ask a favour though. Something's not right with Aunt Petunia – It's not like she's under a spell or anything," he added quickly as Severus stiffened in alarm. "She's been under so much stress since uncle Vernon, then taking care of Dudley and me." Harry went on to explain about h is aunts odd behaviour of late.

Severus listened quietly, but Harry could sense concern growing behind the potion-master's shields. "So anyway, since Dudley and I won't be able to visit except on weekends, I thought you could possibly go around a bit more often... during the week I mean."

"Of course I will; I'll go today after classes let out. Now, however, I think it's best if we get back to the class before one of these dunderheads destroys my lab."

Harry spent the rest of his time there happily reviewing the next lesson along with a list of people that Snape had given him for tutoring. Topmost on the list was Neville Longbottom. It wasn't really a big surprise, Nev had been a walking disaster in potions last year, and it wasn't likely anything had changed. Still, Harry was a little nervous about teaching him; their friendship had felt different since returning from summer holidays.

Neville hadn't really been standoffish; so much as he was now constantly surrounded by a new clique of friends that seemed to worship the ground he walked on. Some, like Hermione and Ron Weasley, were just continuing their friendship from the year before, and weren't really doing any hero worship. Others, like the Patil twins, Ginny Weasley, and a host of other students, seemed attracted to him like moths to a flame. Harry didn't know if it was his battle scars, or the rumours that were floating around about what had happened with the stone, but either way, it seemed to be giving Neville an inflated head at times. Harry's pondering was put to an end, however, as a bell tolled, signalling the end of class.

Later that afternoon, Harry sat at a table near the fire in the Merlin Common Room. He listened as his friends, Draco, Terry and Mandy, told him about another wasted defence class.

"Lockhart is totally useless as a defence teacher," Draco raged. "He just blathers on about himself and the parties that he attended after slaying this beast or that... I think we'd all be better off with a mudbl-"

"Draco!"

Looking a bit flushed, the blond Slytherin corrected himself. "Muggleborn – Sorry Harry. We'd be better off having one of them teaching us."

"You really need to get past that pureblood garbage," Harry scolded. "There are plenty of halfblood and muggleborn wizards and witches that are as good as or better than many purebloods... Granger for instance."

"Hermione is a special case," Draco replied a little too hotly. "Anyway, you can't use her as an example; you won't even talk to her anymore."

"She treats me like an invalid," Harry growled. "Of all the people I'd expect it from, she's the last. I can't even figure out how she got the idea in her head! Even Ron Weasley treats me with more respect than she does now."

"Probably helps that you saved his life," answered Draco offhandedly. "Still, I'm not the one you should be asking about Hermione's motives. She and the Weasel are right across the room, trying to do homework."

Opening his senses to the room, Harry felt and heard Hermione trying to help both Ron and Neville with their homework. From the sound of it, she was revising their transfiguration homework; by the level of tension he was feeling coming from the boys, however, neither was benefiting from her teaching style. Feeling a bit sorry for them, despite their troubles last year, Harry turned back to his friends and they got back to their own homework.

They'd finished reviewing Lockhart's class after ten more minutes of complaining, and started going over What Harry had been reading about in his defence books. They were thoroughly engrossed in a revision of the three different types of conditions or attacks that required shields: physical, magical and mental. So wrapped up in they in their group, it startled everyone when sharp words and the slamming closed of a book from across the room made everybody jump. The sound of quick and forceful footsteps echoed around the room as somebody approached.

There was a short, suspenseful silence, and then Ron Weasley spoke. "Harry," he said a bit too loudly at first, obviously still angry about something. Bringing his tone to a bit more normal level, Ron started again. "Harry, Nev here says that you're going to be going over potions with him."

"I am," Harry agreed cautiously.

"Do you – do you think that it would be alright if I sat in?"

Surprised that Ron would ask, Harry felt out for Hermione. She still sat where they had previously, simmering with anger – and filled with hurt as well. "What about Granger?" he asked.

"She already knows it... bloody knows it all," the redhead added quietly. "We have a little trouble keeping up when she explains things."

"You're welcome to sit in, but we won't be doing potions for a while. Right now we're going over some things I read about in a DADA book."

"That's fine," Ron agreed as him and a still silent Neville found a seat down the table. Harry was about to begin again when somebody barrelled into him from behind and wrapped their hands around his shoulders, sending Loki squawking to perch on his head.

"Guess who," said an excited voice behind him.

"Could it be my favourite cousin?" asked Harry with amusement.

There was a short pause before Dudley exclaimed, "I'm your only cousin!" Saying so, he wormed onto the bench beside Harry.

"How's your week going so far, Duds?"

"This place is brilliant! Harry's cousin replied, glowing with enthusiasm. "Peeves has been playing water balloon tag with me and two of my friends after dinner."

Feeling the water, just now soaking through his clothes, Harry guessed, "You lost then?"

"Kind of," Dudley answered, "But it was wicked!" Turning a bit more serious, he asked. "When are we going to be able to see mum?"

"Hasn't Professor Sprout had a chance to tell you yet?" Harry asked. "Aunt Petunia will be eating dinner with us Friday night and taking you back to the house. I have some things that I have to get done Saturday, but I'll be home with you both for the rest of the weekend after."

"What will you be doing?" Dudley asked innocently.

"Nothing important," Harry replied.

Unfortunately, an excited Draco couldn't help but blurt "Quidditch try-outs – OW!" The blond Slytherin shot Harry a dirty look as he reached under the table to rub his sore shin.

"Quidditch," Dudley repeated uncertainly. "But how?"

"I found a spell that will let me use sound to help me find my way around." Harry explained, desperately hoping that his cousin would leave it at that and not ask any more questions in front of the others.

"A spell," Dudley repeated. "What about – OW!"

"There must be a slouch-backed Nurfler under the table," a dreamy, high pitched voice proclaimed with hidden amusement from behind them.

"Hi Luna," Harry greeted the first year Ravenclaw. He'd become fast friends with her almost before the sorting feast had ended because of the way she treated him. Luna was one of the few people that acted like Harry was any other person, not the Boy Who Lived, not the blind kid, just Harry. There were times that he suspected she didn't even realise that he was blind.

A confused-but pleased smile spread across Harry's face as he asked, "A slope – what?"

"A Slope-backed Nurfler, They're small, gnome like creatures that lurk under tables and attack the legs of unwary wizards. They mostly live in libraries, but have been known to make their homes in schools as well.

Harry struggled to maintain a straight face as Luna explained about the Nurflers and their elusive history. Draco sat, sputtering in disbelief while Loki, from his perch atop Harry's head, shot suspicious glances between his master and the strange girl before his curiosity got too much for him and the little dragon scampered down Harry's body and darted under the table.

"Is it true?" asked a voice from nearby. Hermione, having heard the conversation had come over to confront them.

"About what, Granger?" Harry asked coolly. "The Nurflers? I'd expect, Luna's never given me a reason to distrust her."

Ignoring the cutting remark, the Gryffindor asked, "Are you really trying out for Quidditch?"

"What if I am?" Harry growled, letting his anger take control. "It's not really any of your business; anyway, you of all people should know that I can do this."

"I remember your flying lesson with Draco last year," Hermione agreed. "You flew brilliantly. I also remember that you did it on an empty Quidditch field. In a real game there's stands full of students and other players i _trying /i _to knock you off your broom. You know how your sight gets when you're around too much magic – it's too dangerous!"

"Hermione!" Harry yelled in warning.

"What? Do you think that spell is going to fool anybody," she asked heatedly. "I researched that spell before I gave you the book. I'd hoped it would help you somehow. I know it's useless."

"You don't understand –" Harry began.

"Yes I do!" Hermione almost screamed, drawing the attention of the entire room. "You're a twelve year old boy who's so intent on proving you can what everybody else can, that you're taking stupid risks! Well I'm not letting you do it to yourself this time. If you try out on Saturday, I'll stop you. I'll go straight to Dumbledore and tell him everything if I have to."

With that Hermione hoisted her school bag up on her shoulder and stomped out of the Merlin Common Room. Harry sat frozen in shock, while Draco jumped up, face red with fury and ran after her.

"So," asked Dudley lamely. "Does this mean you'll be staying with us Friday night?"

With greenish light shining so brightly behind his glasses that one of the lenses cracked, Harry got up with a set, angry expression. Without a single word to the others, he walked purposefully out of the room to find the girl he had once called a friend.

* * *

Alright kiddies, there's my cliffie. just a few things. If you can't tell, this chapter is totally unbeta'd, I'll try and get it cleaned up in the next week or so. Also, I need your vote on whether Dumbles finds out about Harry's sight. waiting on your vote won't stop the writing of next chapter, but will have long-term effects on the story. Rock the Vote!  



	7. Quidditch

Disclaimer: Harry Potter and related materials all belong to JKR. All I got was this lousy T-shirt.

Blind Faith, Slytherin's Heir

Chapter 7, Quidditch

Harry stormed out of the Merlin common room and slammed the door behind him. Stopping for a moment, he leaned back against it as he tried to get his emotions under control. The situation with Granger – Hermione had caused Harry a lot of heartache for months. Now she was threatening the disclosure of his abilities to Dumbledore in an attempt to control his actions.

Standing in the Hallway, he rubbed his eyes, using his calming exercises as he formed a plan in his mind. He needed to remind Hermione that while he didn't have the use of his eyes, he was far from 'handicapped' by it. A plan formed in his head; not a pleasant one, but something that might possibly make her think twice about the way she'd been acting toward him. Pushing off from the wall, he began searching for her before Draco said something that he would regret later.

Moving purposefully through the halls, Harry cast out his senses, looking for any trace of his friends. His inner eye was more limited here than other places, thanks to the magic that infused the walls. The glare from them blocked Harry's sight from seeing anything beyond. Still, he pressed on, knowing that he would find them somehow, and quickly enough he did. It wasn't that hard, he decided as he stood outside the closed door of a nearly empty classroom. The yelling inside was clearly audible from the hallway and had alerted Harry of their presence long before he reached it.

Harry stood for a few moments as they argued; the plan in his head had a good chance of working, but he was going to hurt her feelings badly and possibly end their friendship. Letting out a low sigh, he faced the fact that if he didn't get her to change her mind about this, their friendship wouldn't mean anything anyway. Bracing himself, Harry quietly opened the door and slipped into the room.

In the centre, Draco and Hermione were standing toe to toe in a screaming match. He couldn't really make out what each was saying, though it was doubtful that they could either. Both were so wrapped up in their own rants, that Harry doubted they were even listening to each other. While it was allowing the two to vent their spleens, it wasn't resolving anything. Taking a deep breath, Harry yelled out at the top of his lungs.

"Stop it!"

Hermione and Draco, who'd both missed Harry's entrance, jumped at the sound of his voice. There was a feeling of cold anger that rolled ff him and had both is friends backing away in alarm. Stalking across the room to Hermione, Harry let his face twist into an expression of disgust and said, "Forget it Draco, you're wasting your breath. It's not like the little Mudblood is worth it anyway."

Gasps issued from both his friends at Harry's harsh words. Hermione, with a horrified look on her face, asked, "What did you say?"

"You heard me Mudblood," he answered. "That's what you are, isn't it, dirty blood? The spawn of two Muggles, weak, inferior to any pureblood wizard... you really aren't worthy to be in the same room with a squib –"

The force of Hermione's slap split Harry's lip and knocked the glasses from his face. He didn't show it but the true pain of it wasn't the blow, it was the effect that he was having on her. Unfortunately, he knew he job was far from finished.

"Don't you ever say that!" Hermione cried tearfully.

"Truth hurts?" Harry sneered back. "Really, as smart as you are, you'll never measure up to a 'real' wizard or witch."

Draco took a step toward them, wanting to stop this, but seemed unsure just who he wanted to help. Harry was his friend, but the things he was saying to Hermione were cruel. Harry could feel the confusion and hurt radiating off his friend, but kept his attention on the Gryffindor, not that she was making it easy to ignore her.

"That's not true!" the girl yelled as she pounded him with her fists. "I'm a better witch than any pureblood in our year, better than a lot of them two years above us. I'm no less than any of them and I've proved it more than once!"

"Funny," Harry said, his voice and expression suddenly blank. "I've been saying the exact same thing to you since I saved Neville from Voldemort last term. You remember that night, don't you? I stopped Quirrell from Killing Neville and broke the charm that necklace had over me by myself!"

Harry couldn't see the stricken look that suddenly crossed Hermione's face, but he could sense the conflicted emotions swirling underneath. She was angry with him, definitely. There was also guilt, sadness and concern. He never doubted that Hermione cared about him, or that she was doing this for what she thought was his best interests. Somewhere in the past six months, however, she'd decided that he was incapable of taking care of himself. That was something that had to change.

"You nearly got yourself killed doing it," Hermione sobbed as she regained her voice.

"And you could have blocked a point-blank killing curse?" Harry asked quietly. He'd gotten the girl's attention, now he needed to make her realize the double standard she was using with him. He only hoped that she would start to reason out what he was trying to say.

"No – but – that's not the point..." she said. " I know what you're doing; he explained it to me... You don't have anything to prove. I just can't stand the thought of something happening to you."

"What –" Harry asked in bafflement. "Hermione, what are you talking about?"

"I understand why you think you have to do these things," she answered as she stared at the floor intently. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. "The headmaster took me aside and tried to explain it after Halloween, but I didn't really understand until the thing with the necklace. You're the Boy-Who-Lived. People expect you to be more than just another student. You're a symbol for the light. It's why he sent you to live with your relatives instead of staying in the wizarding world. Professor Dumbledore was trying to shield you from having to live up to that image, but you started doing it anyway when you got to school."

"So you've been spying on me for him," Harry said heavily as a headache settled in behind his eyes. "What have you told him, Hermione? What does he already know?"

"I haven't!" she squeaked in denial. "I wouldn't do that. I just agreed to try and keep you from getting into too much trouble."

Turning away from his friends while he reigned in his emotions, Harry felt the first real pangs of dislike for Dumbledore. It was one thing to be over protective, but to use his friends... Harry took a few slow deep breaths like Sal had taught him and returned to the task at hand. Turning back to Hermione, he asked,

"Do you trust me?"

"Of course!" she replied quickly. It's just –"

"You think I don't consider my own safety sometimes," he supplied. After a quiet 'yes' from her, Harry went on. "The thing is that you have to trust me completely or not at all. I've lived this way since I was four years old. I've survived up till now, Trolls, Dark Lords and all. I can do this on my own if I have to, but I'd rather have my friends at my side. You, Draco, Neville – even Weasley isn't so bad sometimes. But I need you to understand that I know what I'm doing.

"I'm trying out for Quidditch on Saturday," he said, holding up a hand to forestall Hermione's retort. "The professors will be there, and the pitch is charmed to keep us from hurting ourselves too badly. If you think I can't handle myself after try-outs, then I won't play." Now Harry had to hold up a hand to keep Draco from protesting. "But I need you to be honest about it. Remember what you said about being unfairly judged, I just want you to do the same with me."

That said, Harry grabbed Draco's sleeve and pulled the Slytherin toward the door. Draco and I are going back to the common room; Think about what I said, OK?"

Not waiting for her response, Harry and Draco left the classroom and began walking back to where their classmates were waiting. Pulling out a handkerchief, Draco handed it to Harry to dab at his bloody lip.

"Quite the way you have with girls," the blond quipped. "I can't wait to see you inviting somebody to the Yule Ball."

"Ha-Ha," Harry grumbled. "Honestly though, you know why I did it. It's the only way I could think of to make her really think about what she was doing."

"I've said it before," answered Draco as they approached the Merlin Common room, "you'd have been great in Slytherin. So you think you'll try out for the team?"

"About that," answered Harry as he pulled his friend to a stop. "I have an idea..."

xXx

The rest of the week went surprisingly smooth for Harry. When he and Draco got back from their confrontation with Hermione, no one asked what had happened, nor about what had been said in the blow-up at the table. Picking up their notes, everyone went right back to studying shield spells.

Friday came faster than Harry really cared for and he was working feverishly to be ready for the next day. With Sal and Ro's help, he'd finally been able to get some control over the glowing eyes that his magic caused. In fact, they'd decided to use it as a prop when he cast his fake _Animadvirto de Sanus_. He'd also gone into more detail with Draco over his plans for Saturday, The Slytherin wasn't exactly happy about the situation either.

"I don't like it," complained the blond as they both stood with their new practice swords, going through the new 'dances' that Ric was teaching them. "You're going to make a lot of enemies, and if we do like you said, it's a fate worse than death!"

"Dramatic much?" asked Harry with a grin as they carried on with their individual dances.

Ric had wasted no time beginning their weapon training. As he'd promised Sal, Harry now used two wooden scimitars, weighted and proportioned to match actual blades for someone his size. Draco had been given a long, slim wooden blade that Ric identified as a longsword. Having a long pommel, it could be used one-handed with ease, but left room for a second when more force was needed. On his other hand he wore a metallic gauntlet that their teacher called a Bracer.

The Bracer consisted of a leather glove covered with metal plates and suds, protecting the hand from injury. Above the wrist, it became a silvery metal sheath that reached nearly to the elbow. According to Ric, the Bracer allowed Draco full movement of his left arm, but when he presented it in a defensive position, a protective ward resembling a shield would appear. Not only would it protect against muggle -type weapons, but most spells save the unforgivables.

Each boy practised their own special dance, a series of movements that made proper offensive and defensive movements instinctive. They were to train thusly an entire hour every morning, doing nothing but the particular dance until they had it perfected to the point that Ric thought they were ready to learn the next one. So far, the only development that Harry could notice was that every day afterwards, they felt like their arms were going to fall off.

Though the now familiar ache was creeping across his shoulders, Draco didn't let it distract him from the subject they were discussing. "You really don't understand; we're messing with the order of the universe here."

"Trust me," Harry answered, puffing with exertion. "I know what I'm doing. Anyway, you don't have to do it with me. I'll understand if you want to back out."

Bristling, the blond responded, "No, I said I'd do it, and I will. Besides, after everything that's happened, I really want to see their faces.

Shaking his head in amusement, Harry continued with his dance, only grumbling when some new ache made itself known. He almost couldn't wait for tomorrow, but first he had to finish classes and meet up with Aunt Petunia at dinner.

xXx

Lessons that day seemed to drag on forever. Even during his time in the infirmary with Madam Pomfrey, Harry couldn't seem to concentrate. Every spare moment had him remembering the rush of wind and the giddy feeling he'd get at the beginning of a dive. The medi-witch was more than a little annoyed at his lack of attention, but even fear of her ire couldn't get him to pay more attention.

At last, Classes for the week finished, and Harry found himself at the Merlin table in the Great Hall with his friends as they waited for dinner. Terry and Millicent were going on about how dreadful Professor Lockhart was in class that day, telling a wild and not-quite believable tale of how he charmed a Medusa into gazing at its own reflection – thus turning it to stone, while Draco and Blaise crowed excitedly about Quidditch try-outs the next morning. Harry was so wrapped up in the conversations that he entirely missed Aunt Petunia's entry until a wild cry of "MUM!" erupted from the Hufflepuff table.

Excusing himself from his friends, Harry made his way to the entrance, knowing that Petunia would still be there, trapped in his cousin's bone crushing hug. Stepping up to them, he waited patiently for mother and son to finish before he gave his own greeting. He was pleasantly surprised, despite the giggles that erupted from the surrounding tables, to be pulled into the hug by his aunt.

Blushing Hotly, Harry went with them to the Hufflepuff table and sat as Dudley introduced Petunia to all his new friends and classmates. There was some snickering going on in the Hall, mostly at the Slytherin table. Most were aware, however, of Dudley's unique circumstances and good-naturedly let his behaviour slide.

Letting the drone of his cousin's nearly constant chatter wash over him, Harry relaxed and closed his inner eye with a relieved sigh. He could keep it open for most of a day anymore, but the constant barrage from both Hogwarts and its students still left him with a headache by the end of it. So relaxed was he, that he almost missed the question from his aunt.

"So, Harry," she asked. "What's so important that at the school that you can't spend the night with us tonight?"

"Er," Harry muttered, trying to think up a good way to break the news to her. Dudley, on the other hand, had no problem explaining.

"Harry's trying out for Quidditch tomorrow," the blond boy crowed, silencing all conversation nearby them, including the ones at other tables. It quickly picked up again, urgent whispers running up and down all the house tables.

"You're what?" asked Petunia quietly.

"I'm trying out for Quidditch," Harry admitted.

"That thing where you fly around on brooms?" she asked. "When did you decide you were going to do this?"

"Well," Harry explained uncomfortably. "Draco took me out flying last Halloween, holding the broom, you understand," he added for the benefit of the others listening. "Anyway I loved it and decided I had to try and find a way to be able to play. Over the summer I found a spell that would allow me to."

"So you've been planning to do this for almost a year," Petunia said with an edge in her voice. "Did Severus know?"

"I told him over the summer," Harry answered miserably. "When we met up with him in Diagon Alley, I asked him to help me with the spell." Wincing, Harry reopened his inner eye to peek at Petunia and see just how mad she really was. To his surprise, there was no anger at all, rather a sense of amusement directed at him.

"You knew!" he yelped. "You're not mad."

"Severus was over for a visit two days ago. He told me all about it. I was worried and upset at first, but I got over it." Pulling her nephew close and touching her head to his, she whispered. "I do get over-worried sometimes – You boys are all I have left; at the same time, I trust you. I've watched you grow from a boy to a young man; you've always shown more maturity than most adults I know. If you think you can do this, and you've thought it out, I'll be in the stands with Duds tomorrow cheering you on." Gripping him a little tighter and letting more humour creep into her voice, she continued. "And if you ever keep anything like this from me again, I'll tan your hide."

Grinning back at his aunt, and trying (poorly) to hold back tears of happiness, Harry sniffed and dug into his dinner. They had a wonderful meal, talking about classes and how they were going. Getting up after, Harry walked out of the hall with his aunt and cousin to escort them to the gates, never knowing of the worried gaze from the head table that followed him out.

xXx

Saturday morning dawned warm and sunny. Being the weekend, Harry had expected that most of the school would still be in bed when he met Draco at the entrance to the Great Hall. Instead, when they entered, they found it full of students carrying on whispered discussions that ceased the moment they were noticed. The Ravenclaw was about to turn and flee, when Draco grabbed him by the shoulder.

"Ignore them," he said quietly. "Pretend it's any other day and come eat breakfast. We're both going to need all our energy."

Arriving at the Merlin table, Harry sat down and asked Terry, "What are you doing up so early? We have to drag you out of bed any other morning."

"I'm going to the Quidditch try-outs," he answered. "Everybody who isn't trying out is going to watch. After last night, I don't think there's anybody in the castle that doesn't want to see you try and fly. The Weasley twins even have a betting pool going; they're wagering on everything from which house you end up flying for, to whether or not you even survive the try-outs."

"A smile broke out on Harry's face at the last bit. "What's the odds at getting through the day and not visiting the hospital wing?"

"Ten-to-one," reported Terry after checking a parchment he held in his lap. Thirty-to-one that you even make it on a house team."

A quick conference with Draco had Harry and him pooling money before the blond ran over to the Gryffindor Table to make his own bet. They'd nearly finished breakfast when Neville approached the table and asked If Harry was really going to try out.

"You can't be serious," the dark haired Gryffindor said. He stood, holding a Nimbus 2001 that he'd gotten as an anonymous gift upon announcing he'd be flying for his house that year. Ginny Weasley stood with him as well, splitting her time giving Neville moon-eyed gazes and Harry piercing stares. "Quidditch is dangerous business, Harry. You should really leave it to people that can handle it."

"Really," Harry answered, bristling. "How's the wrist, Nev?"

Blanching at the memory of his first Flying class, the Gryffindor recovered quickly and responded with coolness in his voice that had never been there before. "That was then; I've gotten a lot better since. Well, I guess we'll just have to see you out there then," he said as he turned and walked away. Sending one more look at Harry, Ginny followed after her housemate.

"Well, that was weird," Harry said after they'd left.

"More of the same if you ask me," answered Draco as he took a drink of his pumpkin juice. "Mind you, Longbottom hasn't been as bad as Hermione, he's been doing the same thing she has since last year."

"No, I mean Ginny Weasley. There's something different about her since last year. I'm not sure what... she doesn't seem to like me much anymore either."

"It's a Weasley," Draco reminded as he stood up. "I wouldn't worry about it. Come on; let's get down to the Quidditch pitch."

As they left, it seemed like half the Great Hall finished their breakfast at the same time and made a dash for the door. Harry was by no means shy, but the sheer numbers of people watching made him want to just forget the whole thing and run back to his aunt's house. It was only the call of the pitch, nearing with every step, that kept him from doing just that. Soon they were about to pass through to the stands and enter the field, when he found his way blocked by several adults.

"Good morning, Harry," said Albus Dumbledore as he effectively blocked entry to the field. "You've come to be with your friends while they try-out? You can't be on the field while they do, but I'll let you come and sit in my box. Its close to the announcer's booth, you'll be able to hear everything that happens."

"Sorry, Headmaster, but I'm not here to cheer them on." Harry replied smoothly as he shrugged off the hand Dumbledore had placed on his shoulder. I'm trying out for one of the teams."

Harry felt concern and determination well up behind the headmaster's shields as the ancient wizard held up a hand and spoke. "No, Harry, I can't allow it. The rules clearly prohibit your play. It's for your own safety."

"But it's not," answered Harry coolly as he nudged Draco, who pulled the Quidditch rulebook from his satchel. "The rules say that, and I quote, 'Any student of at least second year may participate as long as they are of good academic standing and has no uncorrected conditions that would cause harm to themselves or others."

Nodding emphatically, Dumbledore went on, "Then you must understand why it is necessary for you not to play."

"It says _uncorrected_ conditions."

"Harry," Dumbledore said patiently. "Your sight was irreparably damaged. There is nothing to correct."

"But it can be approximated," Harry insisted. "I found a spell that converts some sounds into vision. It's ancient and doesn't work on everybody, that's why it isn't in use much, but it does for me."

"Without further study by a competent wizard, I still don't think –"

"I helped Mr Potter research his spell Albus," announced Professor Snape as he seemed to appear from nowhere. "While the spell isn't perfect, it does appear to be effective enough for this purpose."

Taking advantage of the large audience, Harry asked a bit loudly, "Are you forbidding me to play, Professor?"

A wave of realization and wry humour washed through the headmaster's sparks as he realized he was being successfully manipulated by a twelve year old. Still, he wasn't about to let it go this quickly. "Please Harry, You know what kind of injuries can come from Quidditch; you've helped take care of numerous injuries last year. Those boys and girls had two good eyes and still were caught unawares."

Unmoved by the headmaster's arguments, Harry reminded, "I know all that, but today you will all be there and the pitch is warded to prevent serious injury. Unless you absolutely refuse to let my try playing, I'm going out there and getting on a team."

Professor Dumbledore was ready to do just that, Harry's safety should be paramount over whatever romantic notions he had about playing. Still, he felt boxed into a corner. There _was _no rule that would forbid him playing, and Harry knew it. Moreover, the entire school was listening in on their discussion, so they knew it as well. Defeated, Albus only hoped that Harry wouldn't hurt himself too badly when he failed on the field. With a sigh, he announced, "I won't forbid your play, Harry. You have to understand, though, there will be no favouritism for you because of your disability. You will be accepted on a team, or not, by your own skill."

"Understood sir," Harry answered with a grin. "That's all I was asking for."

Slipping past the headmaster, Harry and Draco made it on to the field. Cringing at the glare caused by the sparks of both wards and wizards present, Harry suddenly realized just how hard spotting the Snitch might be.

"Harry!"

An excited voice was all the warning Harry got before being bowled over by the excited form of Dudley Dursley. They'd parted Just the night before, but from the way he was acting, it was if he hadn't seen his cousin in weeks.

"Surprise!" squeaked the blond as he untangled himself from his cousin. "I bet you didn't expect to see us. Mum said we could come and watch you try out... do you know what house you're going to play for? Zack says that you should play for Hufflepuff He says we have a real chance to win the Quidditch cup this year if we try. Cedric is our Seeker; he's really good – he helps me with my homework sometimes –"

"Duds!" Harry called out, to cut off his cousin's energetic monologue. "It's good to see you, but I don't have a lot of time to talk." Brightening, he retrieved an envelope from Draco and handed it to his cousin. "Do me a favour if you can, though. I need this delivered before try-outs start; can you do that for me?"

Reading the name of the addressed, Dudley looked up with wide eyes and nodded fiercely. With another quick hug and a goodbye, the Hufflepuff ran off to deliver the message. Turning his attention back to the Pitch, Harry took stock of the chaos around them.

He hadn't been to Quidditch try-outs last year, so the process was new to him. The Pitch was divided into four quarters. Each house team was currently meeting in its own section getting their candidates set up to play. Once everybody was accounted for, according to Draco and Terry anyway, the pitch would be cleared and the captains meet with Madam Hooch to choose the order by which the houses would use the pitch.

Even as Harry approached the house he was going to try-out for, he felt the stares of the entire school on him. From the closest he could feel scorn and dismissiveness in some of their auras, in others, simple curiosity. Only a rare few looked at Harry and saw past the dark glasses and cane. Each house had a few, but none concentrated as the house he'd picked. Unfortunately, it was also the house where he tended to have more enemies than friends.

Walking up to the team captain, a dark haired, brutish seventh year that oozed maliciousness, he waited to be recognized.

"Potter," the captain sneered, "Come to be humiliated by real Quidditch players then?"

"I thought I'd give your team a try, Flint," he answered casually. "I wanted to see if Slytherin was worth my time."

With a feral grin, Flint asked, "What position does the spoiled little blind Boy-Who-Lived want to try for?"

"Seeker," Harry stated calmly. It was hard not to laugh at the Slytherin's words. He and Draco had jokingly gone over what they thought he'd say, and Flint had followed their private script almost perfectly.

Snorting at Harry's choice, Flint shook his head, "Won't happen Potter. Malfoy already has that spot."

"Really," Draco asked, feigning interest and looking around. "Father's playing? I thought you had to be a current student."

"Don't be daft," Flint replied irritably. "I meant you; your father made sure you'd have a place on the team."

"That's just it," Draco explained. "I'm not trying out for Slytherin. The only reason I'm here is to watch Harry fly."

"But you have to play Seeker!" Flint sputtered. "Your father said –"

"My father," interrupted Draco, "Didn't bother to talk with me about this. If you want a Seeker, you're going to have to hold try-outs."

"He wasn't very happy," Harry commented as Flint stormed away to find more candidates for the Seeker position.

"Understandable though," Draco answered. "Father was going to give the Slytherin team new brooms if I was made Seeker."

Confused, Harry said, "I thought you told Flint that you didn't know anything about your father getting you on the team."

A trademark sneer crossed the blond's face as he replied, "I lied."

When all the teams were ready, the captains met with Madam Hooch at the centre of the pitch. They'd draw slips of paper out of a hat to pick the order they'd use the pitch that day. For a simple drawing, it seemed to take forever. Finally Flint came back with a superior grin on his face and Harry overheard him telling his friends how they'd gotten Slytherin first position because Hufflepuff, who'd pulled the first slot from the hat, wasn't ready.

Calling all the new players, Mostly second years, but a few from third and fourth that hadn't played previously, Flint announced a quick race to prove (Or disprove he added, looking right at Harry) everyone's flying ability. Picking a broom wasn't an option for Harry either. As everyone else was picking one from the team pile, Harry had one pushed into his hands.

"Here you go Potter," Flint said with a tight grin. "This one should be safe enough for you – I still don't see how you're going to fly; that little cane of yours will be useless up there."

"Don't worry about me," Harry answered with a smirk of his own. "I've been getting ready for this –" Taking off his glasses and flicking of his wand as he'd practised, casting, "_Animadvirto de Sanus!_"

An emerald light blazed from Harry's eyes for a few moments before fading to a pale greenish glow, vaguely reminiscent of moonlight. Caught in the eerie gaze, Flint gaped like a fish. Whether it was the strange light that came from the Ravenclaw's eyes, or that the Slytherin felt like his soul was being laid bare under that unsettling stare, he didn't know but he didn't like it. Making a lame excuse, Flint turned and hurried off to check the other candidates. Left alone with Draco for a moment, Harry took a moment to study his broom.

"What a piece of junk," Draco commented as Harry ran his fingers over the broom. It was old, Harry had to admit. Many of the bristles were broken or missing. The shaft was covered with small dings and dents, most so old they were smooth as the shaft. Reaching into it with his senses, Harry only faintly sensed the spells that powered it still in operation. With a broom in this condition, Harry knew he'd never be able to compete against the other candidates. He was about the drop it when he sensed something else.

There _was_ magic in it, quite a lot, but it wasn't tied to anything. The magic just seemed to be bonded to the material of the broom itself. Pulling it closer, Harry focused on the chaotic energy and touched it with his own magic. For a moment, he felt a weird, out of body experience, like he'd become the broom. He could feel himself soaring through the air with a child riding on his back, whooping with glee. Other images and children and teenagers flashed through his mind's eye as he experienced a few of the hundreds of children that had played on it and left a tiny piece of themselves behind.

He stood a moment in awe of all the images and experiences that it had held inside of it, when a thought occurred to him. Using his own magic, Harry tried to form a link between the free-floating magic in the broom, and the failing spells that powered it. At first, nothing happened; it lay, dead in his hands, feeling like any muggle broom. Gradually, he felt a vibration begin in the broom handle, ever so faint at first, but growing quickly in intensity.

"Whoa," Draco gasped quietly as even he could feel a change in the ancient broom. At last, it settled down and outwardly, looked no different than it had before. Touching it though, anybody could feel the power thrumming through it. To Harry's senses, its spells were completely restored and somehow more vibrant and connected to it than other brooms he'd ever seen.

A whistle from Flint had him running to the start line as several Slytherins prepared to take off for the race. Harry wished he'd had time to test the broom, he didn't know if what he'd done to fix it had worked right or not. Still, he had to race with the others now, or not at all. Throwing a leg over the broomstick, the Ravenclaw suddenly became nervous. He wished he'd had time beforehand to practice flying. Any doubts he was having, however, were put to the side as Flint blew the whistle to begin.

Taking off, Harry surprised everyone, including himself, as he not only kept up with the newer brooms, but passed several before they reached the first in a set of rings they were supposed to pass through. The race course was a slalom; rings were set at different heights along the sides of the pitch. At the far end was a final set of rings, that when passed, marked the beginning of a sprint back to the starting point. Harry's take off was impressive, but it quickly became obvious, however, that it would take more than speed to win the race.

As they approached the first Ring, one of the older Slytherins, a second year with dark hair and eyes, unexpectedly shoved Harry so hard that he nearly fell off his broom. Having to loop around to make it through the ring, he was hard pressed to catch up with the park. From that moment, it was an unending fight for position.

For every Slytherin he passed, Harry had to dodge punches, kicks and even the stray hex. By the time they got to the final sprint, the only two people ahead of him were Blaise, who was in front, and the dark haired Slytherin that had shoved him. Blaise had a healthy lead, but the older boy was riding a Nimbus 2001 and would catch up quickly. Harry's only chance of winning was somehow passing them both in the sprint.

Stretching out almost flat on his broom, Harry tried to squeeze every ounce of speed he could into his sprint. Accelerating with astonishing speed, he cut the distance between them to almost nothing in seconds. He was about to pass by them, when the dark haired Slytherin backhanded Blaise and knocked him from his broom with a yelp. Not even stopping to think, Harry changed course to catch his fellow Merlin, swinging Blaise around behind him. He was able to save his friend from a nasty fall, but the delay allowed the dark haired Slytherin to speed ahead and take first place in the race.

Landing, Harry nearly charged the older boy, but was caught by Draco before he could take a step. "Harry," he hissed, "calm down! Don't give Flint a reason to kick you out of the try-outs!"

"But –" Harry protested.

"But nothing," Draco reminded him. "This is Slytherin; whatever it takes to win, that's what you do."

"Who is that jerk anyway?" asked the Ravenclaw as Draco led him a little away from the others.

"His name's Thorne," the blond supplied, "Daniel, Darren – something like that, but not so common. Anyway, He's a transfer student from America, his father is the embasador to the ministry. be careful around him. When he doesn't get his way, he's an unholy terror."

"Good job Thorne," said Flint, from the knot of Slytherins gathered around the winner. Angrily, Harry joined the other fliers that had completed the race as the next event of the try-outs was announced. "We'll be having a thirty minute scrimmage; Last years team, along with those of you I think have potential will go against the rest of the candidates. I'll referee and grade each player; Slytherin only allows the best, most cunning players to be in its team. If you don't live up to its expectations – _my_ expectations, you have no place here."

Separating himself from the other Slytherins, Flint stepped in close with Harry, leaning in, he said softly, "Last chance Potter, give up now and save yourself some pain. The only way you'd get Seeker is to catch that Snitch before time's up and put it in my hand. You know it; I know it, that's never going to happen."

With eyes blazing bright green for a few moments, Harry grinned fiercely as he said simply, "Watch me."

Without another word, Harry joined his reluctant team mates and took to the air. At Flint's whistle, play began. Harry began circling the pitch, staying opposite Thorne while each of them searched for any sign of the Snitch. As things began heating up, Harry realized just how elusive the little gold ball could be. Whether it was the limited range of his sight, or the background magic being put out by the wards and students, the Snitch was impossible to make out from a distance. Not one to let a setback slow him, Harry simply looked for other ways to find it.

One way was to watch Thorne's aura. The American was difficult to read, but Harry could feel a little jolt of excitement whenever the other boy thought he'd spotted his target. Unfortunately, he hadn't actually seen it yet and Harry was feeling more frustration from him than anything else.

Another, means to locate the Snitch was his ears. The little golden wings had a unique sound, and while it wouldn't be exact enough to zero in on it, Harry thought he could at least get close enough to use his sight, provided he _did_ get a chance to hear it. The situation wasn't helped at all by the odd Bludger being batted in his direction.

Harry cursed as he dodged another of the energetic balls. If it had just been that he was only dodging Bludgers from the opposing team, he would have been alright with it. In the closing half of the scrimmage, however, he was spending more time avoiding the attacks of his own team as well.

Most of the time in their match had expired by this point and there were only a few minutes left before Flint blew his whistle, ending play. The other team, composed primarily of 'veteran' players had dominated the field, guaranteeing that only they and the few players Flint had already picked would make up that year's team.

Harry and Thorne both were desperate to be the ones to catch the Snitch, Harry to secure his place as Seeker, Thorne, to deny it to him. Finding the prize, however, was proving difficult for both as it would only appear for a few seconds, then dart off before either could get a good fix on it. Time was running out, and finding the Snitch in such a short time would take a miracle. Luckily, there just happened to be one handy.

Fighting to not outwardly react, Harry recognized a distant whir that sounded like hummingbird wings, only these had a distinctly metallic edge to them. Focusing his senses in that direction (again thanking fate that he didn't have to turn his head to 'look'), he was able to make out the crazed flying ball that had avoided him for the last half hour. His heart sank, however, when he realized exactly where it was.

Fifty feet directly below Thorne, the Snitch flitted along the grass covering the pitch. Harry knew that if he dove directly for it, that the Slytherin would know what he was doing and intercept it first. Time was running out, however, and Harry was desperate. A maniacal grin came to his face as a plan was thought of and executed in a split second.

Turning his broom directly toward Thorne, Harry put everything into a tremendous burst of speed. First the Slytherin looked wildly about him, thinking the Snitch must be within arms reach. Realizing it wasn't, he made the assumption that Harry must be charging him for some insane reason. By then it was too late to move, so Thorne only had time to throw up his arms and reflexively close his eyes. Impact never came, however.

In the split second before they would have met, Harry rolled over so he was flying upside down. Pulling back, he went into a vertical dive that had the entire stadium on its feet. The crowd roared as Harry pulled out just above the grass, mirroring the move he'd done the year before that had brought Hermione to tears. In his hand he held a golden ball with delicate wings.

Landing in front of Flint, Harry stood, holding the broom in one hand and Snitch in the other, waiting for the Slytherin Captain to speak. Within moments Draco and Blaise were slapping him on the back, crowing about his skill. The rest of the team had landed as well and gathered around, all but Thorne. The dark haired Slytherin stood off to the side, seething with anger. Harry had humiliated him and the Ravenclaw knew that there would always be bad blood between them after this. None of that mattered now as Flint began to speak.

"You surprised me Potter," he said. It was true, that feeling was coming off him in waves. Harry could also sense the Slytherin's hate battling what he could only guess was the need to win. Holding out his hand to take the Snitch, he added, "Welcome to the Slytherin team."

"No thanks."

Complete silence reigned as Harry threw the tiny Snitch into the air. Sensing that it was free, the little ball unfurled its wings and darted off in some odd direction.

"What are you doing?" demanded Flint in disbelief. "Don't you get it? You made the team! That's what you came here to do!"

"No it wasn't," Harry replied. "Remember, I said I'd try-out and see if your team is worth flying for... it's really not. You weren't looking for good flyers; you'd already picked the team before you came out here. When I did try for a position, you had your cronies do whatever it took to keep me from making the team, including a couple good attempts to injure me.

"Thing is Flint," he added, "You're a terrible team captain and a sorry Slytherin. A true student of Salazar would have done whatever it took to build a winning team; you just picked your friends. I think I'll go check out the other houses, I'm sure I can find at least one that isn't _blind_ to possibility."

Sitting the broom down, Harry turned and was quickly joined by Draco as he walked away from the Slytherins.

"Malfoy!" called Flint. "You're a Slytherin, get back here!"

"I'm a Merlin as well," Draco drawled over his shoulder, "The Slytherin in me says to follow Harry to whatever team he ends up on, that'll be the one that wins the Quidditch cup."

Moments later they were joined boy Blaise, also abandoning the Slytherins for his friends. "Silly stupid bunch of sods," he muttered darkly.

They'd made it most of the way across the pitch when Harry felt something bump against his back. Turning, he found the ancient broom hovering directly behind him. "What's this?" he asked. Taking the broom in hand, he put it back on the ground and began to walk away. Within moments, the broom lifted up on its own and began following him again.

"Looks like you found another stray," commented Draco lightly. "I've never seen a broom act like that before though."

Not sure what was going on with it, but not wanting to waste more time, he took the broom in hand and went to the other house captain he'd had a mind to play for. The fifth year stood with a note in his hand, glanced at it and back to them.

"You said there were two of you," he said with a grin. "Looks like you're on your way to building your own team."

"No," Harry answered, "just friends that want to be with me on the winning team. Before you ask, I don't want to go out for Seeker, it's your position and you're better at it. Draco and I both want to try out for Chaser."

"Me too," piped in Blaise.

"You sure Potter?" asked the captain. I mean you caught the Snitch after a fifty foot dive, and not a scratch on you. Not even Charlie Weasley could have pulled that off and I've seen him fly; he's one of the best."

"Chaser is fine. I wouldn't mind being the reserve, if there's a spot."

"Fine then, go put your names down on the list. Oh, by the way, call me Cedric, everybody does."

Harry and Draco won their spots as Chasers on the Hufflepuff team easily. Blaise almost did as well, he was beat out by a sixth year that had held the spot since he started playing in second. Blaise did make it on the reserve team though; next to be picked if something happened and somebody couldn't play.

The Gryffindors almost had Ron Weasley join as the new Seeker; he was beat out by Neville, however. It was odd because the redhead had flown far better than Nev. Wood had chosen Longbottom anyway, though his face looked like he'd been sucking lemons when he'd done it. Terry had been made the Ravenclaw team as a Chaser as well.

Petunia and Dudley cheered him them on from the stands, and when it was all over there were hugs all around. Tired and ready to go home for the weekend, Harry turned as he sensed somebody approaching. This confrontation he'd been expecting, but he still didn't know how it would turn out. Wanting to get it over with, he asked, "So?"

"You scared the daylights out of me again today Harry," Hermione said "You're reckless and impulsive. I know you're going to hurt yourself one day really wish you wouldn't do it."

His heart dropping because of the promise he'd made to her, Harry asked, "You're telling me not to play?"

There was a long pause that did nothing for Harry's state of well-being before she answered. "No, that wouldn't be fair," she said, releasing the weight He'd begun to feel settling over his heart. "I can tell how much you love it and you are really good." She paused again, building the courage to speak. "I don't know if I can ever stop worrying about you, don't think I want to. I – I just wish that we could be friends again," she finished as her eyes filled with tears.

Reaching out with both hands, Harry let her take hold. "You've always been my friend Hermione, that's never been the issue. I've even (mostly) forgiven you for the Bodybind last year. The only thing is trust. You've shown that you don't trust me, and because of that, I can't trust you, even if I want to. You'll have to earn that back."

Releasing her hands as real tears began to fall from her eyes he went on, "We are friends, just not like before, not yet." Turning, he, his friends and family walked off the pitch toward Hogsmeade. Professor Snape had given both Blaise and Draco permission to visit Harry at home and have dinner, tired and truly happy.

* * *

Everybody cheer, no cliffhanger. 

I just want everybody to know, that this will not become a super bad-A Harry, the sword training isnt to make him a warrior, though it might come in handy in the chamber of secrets. It's simply a device to help drive the story. (kind of cool though, huh?)

Also, fifty points to the person that can correctly guess Thorne's real first name. It's a pop-culture reference, both old and about to be new again. (think villain)


	8. Halloween

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it, she does... _god - I sound married!  
_

_**A/N: **_Thanks for all the wonderful reviews of last chapter and sorry for the wait.

well, four of you identified Damien as Thorne's first name. Nothing like having the anti-christ as a supporting character. I'm also going to go back and change him to be in the same year as Harry, make things a bit more interesting...

Other good news is I'm about a third into the next chapter on paper... I've removed the computer from my house so I have to go to relatives to get online (suddenly I have time to write again, odd-that)

_On with the show_

**Chapter 8: Halloween**

_Dear Harry,_

_Sorry for waiting so long to write since your birthday, I promised to keep in touch but a mutual acquaintance of ours asked me to run some errands for him and it's kept me away over-long._

_How are you? It must be wonderful to be back at Hogwarts. Some of my happiest memories are from my own school days there. Your father, as I've told you, was one of my first and dearest friends. I hope you find the same joy and comradeship there that I did._

_You asked me about the two other people mentioned in the letter Lily left you. I couldn't answer at the time; some wounds even after many years are simply too fresh. Having had time to think it over, however, I realized that it wasn't fair to leave you in the dark about your, and your parent's past. If you insist on knowing, I will tell you in person the next time we meet. What has to be said couldn't be done justice in a letter. _

_I do have one request of you, though it may seem a bit odd. You told me that Neville Longbottom received an invisibility cloak Christmas last, I have an interest in it. Call it a hobby of mine, but such artefacts are extremely rare and valuable. They're usually only found in the possession of pureblood families, passed down, father-to-son. Being such, I find it interesting that anyone would give one up to the headmaster for any reason. _

_Most invisibility cloaks have embroidered in one corner, a maker's mark that identifies not only the craftsman, but in many cases the family crest of the family that possessed it. If the situation allows, do you think that it would be possible for you, or one of your friends to examine it and copy the makers mark for me? I know it seems silly, but I would love find out more about it._

_Take care of yourself and I'll be back to visit as soon as I can._

_Warmest Regards_

_Remus Lupin_

Harry sat back feeling impressed with his father's old friend. Most wizards would have simply written the letter and cast a translation spell. From the roughness of the raised pips, he could tell that Remus had used a Braille writer. A wave of happiness went through Harry, knowing that another link to his parents existed and was becoming a part of his life.

He sat back in his chair and let Professor Binns, the ghost that taught History of Magic, Drone on while he thought about what Mooney had said in his letter. The mutual acquaintance might be Dumbledore. Remus and the headmaster had conversed at the birthday party, and obviously knew each other. Remus had also left shortly after the headmaster and had disappeared after that. It meant that there was something else he'd have to ask about when Mooney returned.

Hopefully Remus would be back before the first Quidditch match; Harry knew his father had played in his school days, and perhaps Remus would find some joy in watching Him play. Cedric had been driving them hard, even having Harry take turns as seeker to get a feel for the position. He and Draco had spent hours working on their scoring strategies – some of which bordered on the insane or illegal. The rest of their time was taken up by the study group.

The students all continued to meet in the Merlin common area, the group, in a very short time, had already doubled in size. Several first and second year students, and even the occasional third year would come three nights a week going over defence texts that had nothing to do with Professor Lockhart's curriculum.

While the defence teacher would go on for hours in his class about what he'd worn going after the Birkinghamshire Banshee, Harry and the students of his study group researched the creatures in general, learning the spells that would protect them from their deadly wail. DADA had become a joke among the students, while most of the female population was still enthralled by him, the rest of the student body was looking elsewhere. Small study groups formed in each house or among year mates, none were large or more enthusiastic as the Merlins. Anyone serious about Defence came to work with them, house was no barrier when it came to study time either.

The first to join them had been the Ravenclaws. Two of the first years had simply sat down at the table with them one day, pulled out quill and parchment, and began peppering Harry and his friends with questions about what had already been covered. Within days, Hufflepuff and Slytherin students had joined them as well. Surprisingly, it was the prideful Gryffindors that held off till the last. In the end, however, even they came, frustrated with DADA.

Noticeably absent from the study group was Hermione and Neville. After their confrontation, Hermione had been doing her best to stay out of Harry's way, almost to the point of running in the opposite direction when he noticed her. At the same time, however, she was spending much of the time they were forced to be in the same room, whether it be class or mealtimes in the Great Hall, to watch him.

According to Draco and Terry, Hermione had been using the weeks since Quidditch try-outs studying him with quick peeks and guarded glances. His friends had come to him initially, thinking that she was spying on him, possibly for Dumbledore but Harry didn't think so. He believed, hoped really, that Hermione was looking – and really seeing him for the first time.

Harry was startled from his daydreams by a bell tolling the end of class. Gathering his supplies, Harry pulled out his cane and walked with his friends toward the Great Hall for lunch. He still used the cane between classes, his excuse being that the _Animadvirto de Sanus _spell was too easily confused by the crowded hallways. This spared him from using his inner sight and having to deal with the inevitable headaches that would follow after a full day's use in the castle.

"Harry!"

A smile broke over the Ravenclaw's face as he recognized his cousin's voice from down the corridor.

"Here," Harry called back as he waited for Dudley to catch up. The wait was a short one as moments later he was fairly tackled , then spun around in his cousin's overly enthusiastic embrace.

"Put me down Duds," Harry laughed. "I'm Happy to see you too but I need to breathe!"

Harry felt himself being placed promptly back on his feet. He was about to ask Dudley how his classes were going when he noticed his cousin's agitation. Dudley's breaths were quick and shallow, his voice strained, and the hands that gripped his upper arms trembled.

"Duds," Harry asked with concern as he opened his inner eye. "What's wrong? Has Thorne been after you again?"

Dudley's breath hitched a bit and his aura flared at the mention of the Slytherin's name. Damien Thorne had made it a special mission to create misery for Harry ever since their confrontation on the Quidditch pitch. After ineffectually trying to intimidate the Ravenclaw, Thorne had turned his sights on Harry's family, Dudley. Harry could tell by how his cousin was acting, that Damien had been harassing him again, but that it wasn't the real reason for his upset now.

"They won't listen to me," cried Duds inconsolably as he clutched Harry's sleeves. "I told them what the walls said but the won't believe me!"

"Wha-" Harry asked in confusion as he pulled Dudley into an unused classroom, hardly noticing as Terry Boot and Luna Lovegood followed them in. "Slow down; what do you mean about the walls talking?"

For a few moments Dudley just stood holding onto his cousin as the tried to calm down. From his cousin's hitching breaths, Harry could tell that Duds was close to tears. Harry stroked his back, murmuring reassurances as he turned his head toward Terry and Luna, acknowledging their presence. Both Ravenclaws remained a respectful distance, concerned with Dudley's agitated state but not wanting to upset him further.

When his cousin's breathing had slowed a bit, Harry asked, "What did you mean about the walls talking?"

Pulling away a bit, Dudley collected himself and replied. "It was an accident... really. I like walking around the halls at night before curfew to look at the portraits on the walls. It's just that they're only pictrures, but they talk to you and move and everything. I really like the funny one on the fifth floor that has the man getting thumped by the monsters in green tights; it's mean i guess but it makes me laugh too –"

"Duds," reminded Harry patiently. "You said the walls talked?"

"Oh-right," Dudley answered with embarrassment coming off him in waves. "I was on the second floor last night and I heard this noise coming from the wall. It sounded like somebody rubbing sandpaper on a rock. I got real close to try and hear it better and I heard it talk. The voice was all whispery and sounded mad, it kept saying 'kill' and 'rip' and 'the includers must die."

"Includers?" Harry asked uncertainly. "You're sure that's what it said?"

"Well – something like that," Dudley replied with a sullen pout. "I tried to tell the prefects but nobody believed me, not even Cedric."

"You're sure it wasn't on of the portraits playing a trick?" Terry asked. "I mean one of the fifth years told me about this time he had to see the headmaster and he got lost – a portrait gave him directions but he ended up in Filches office instead."

"It could be Scandinavian ear burrowers," Luna chimed in dreamily. "They nest in peoples ears and whisper odd things to entertain themselves."

Harry bit his lip, trying not to laugh out loud at Luna's suggestion. Some of the things she said had to be completely made up, but he didn't want to insult her in case she really believed in them. Regaining control of himself, he turned his attention back to Dudley.

"Exactly where and when did this happen?" he asked. "Where on the second floor I mean, can you guess about what time?"

A surge of happiness flooded him as Dudley crowed excitedly, "You believe me!"

"Of course," Harry replied. "You've never lied to me before, if you say you heard it, then you did. Now, where were you?"

"The picture of a mum holding her baby," Dudley answered happily. "It's by the girls wash room; I can show you.

"Not right now," Harry replied with a smile as he turned his cousin back toward the door. "It's lunchtime and you know how Aunt Petunia will get if she finds out we're missing meals."

Down in the Great Hall, Dudley sat with the Merlins, among the first years. Any anxiety he'd been feeling earlier seemed to vanish as he chattered away with his school mates and ogled the Halloween decorations.

Same as last year, the hall was decorated to mark the special occasion. Pumpkins the size of beach balls decorated every table, the ghosts floated about with great ceremony and rattling their finest chains while the bats... the bats seemed nervous this year for some reason.

"You can't be serious," Draco grumbled at Harry while stirring his creamed potatoes disinterestedly. "You're going to pass up one of the school's biggest celebrations – the best feast of the year to chase shadows in the corridors?"

"I don't think of it like chasing shadows," Harry explained. "Duds really believes that he heard a voice; after last year I don't like the idea of just ignoring something like that, especially today."

"I really doubt another troll is going to stroll into the castle," Draco said impatiently as he buttered another scone. "I mean Dumbledore has to have done _something_ to keep that from happening again."

"If you believe him, there's no way Voldemort should have found a way into the school _last_ year," Harry replied. "No person or protection is perfect. If somebody wants it badly enough, they'll find a way in; my family, my friends, you're all to important for me to just ignore this."

"Then tell a professor," Draco argued. "I mean you're twelve – let them take care of it."

"I will," he agreed. "Once I know it's for real, I'll go to Professor Snape myself and tell him everything. What I'm not going to do is go crying to him over nothing. That's why I'm going to check it out while everyone is at the feast. If there's anything there, I'll hear it."

"We'll hear it you mean," grumbled Draco. "You know I can't stay behind and let you have all the fun."

A bright smile broke out on Harry's face and the Merlins tucked into their meal again. Meanwhile, high above them, a bat squeaked in panic as it was snatched from the air and swallowed whole by an invisible attacker.

Hours later, Harry and Draco stood in the second floor corridor, straining futilly to pick up even the faintest sound that might verify Dudley's story. They'd been at it for more than half an hour and Draco's patience had long since worn through.

"They're having Chocolate Crawlies at the feast tonight," groaned the blond, and with a frustrated sigh, he leaned against the wall with arms crossed. "Do you know how difficult it is to enchant them all? Most of the time I can't even get mother and father to buy them for me!"

Tiredly, Harry closed his inner eye and leaned up against the wall beside his friend. "Nothing," he murmured. "Half an hour of listening and looking with my sight and all I've got is a headache."

"Told you so," said Draco with a smug tone. "Your cousin probably just imagined it. Let's get down to the Great Hall and see if there are any sweets left."

Sighing in defeat, Harry pushed himself off the wall and turned back to Draco. "Coming?" he asked.

With a grin, Draco threw an arm over his friend's shoulder and started walking toward the stairs. They hadn't taken more than a few steps when Harry heard the faint sound of stone grinding against stone. Stopping, he tilted his head slightly, trying to hear the noise better.

Frowning at the sudden stop on the way to his Chocolate Crawlies, Draco turned to Harry and asked, "Now what?"

Holding up a hand to beg for silence, the Ravenclaw eased back against the wall and put an ear to it. There was a faint scraping sound like hard leather or wood against stone. More importantly, Harry could hear a voice – low, sibilant, and in Parseltongue.

"_Bite, tear, kill the intruders – eat the ones that don't belong. Rend, crush – taste the blood of the unclean."_

As the voice moved down the corridor, Harry followed along the wall, trying to keep up with it. Draco, oblivious to what was behind the stones, grabbed his friend and asked, "Where are you going; what's going on?"

"It's a snake," Harry replied urgently as he tried to shrug out of Draco's grip. "I don't know what kind it is, but it's big and moving through the wall somehow."

Pulling Harry to a stop, Draco blocked his way and reminded, "You said we'd tell Professor Snape if we found anything, lets get back to the Great hall, tell him what you heard and let him deal with it."

Shaking his head impatiently, Harry pulled free and tried to explain as he pushed past Draco in the direction of the noise, "There's no time. Whatever it is, it was talking about killing somebody. If that's what it's going to do, I have to try and stop it."

"And how are you going to stop a giant snake?"

"I've got to do something," Harry replied as he ran down the corridor and opened his inner eye without care for the pain it was causing him. "Go get a professor; I'll be alright."

Draco paused for a moment, his gaze shifting from his friend's retreating back and the stairway only metres away. "Bloody Hell," he cursed as he ran as fast as his legs could carry him, trying to catch up with Harry.

The chase led down several corridors, all empty due to the Halloween feast. Even with his second sight, Harry couldn't make out what was travelling through the walls. The castle's magic was just too intense. Harry was slowly gaining on the creature with Draco hot on his heels when they turned another corner and collided with something.

"Oof," grunted the obstacle as they fell in a heap. Harry didn't need any help from his second sight to identify the other boy. Neville's distinct voice along with the cloying smell of the greenhouse readily identified him.

First and foremost a healer in training, Harry ran his senses over the Gryffindor's aura. Beyond the confusion and irritation, Neville was generating, He could sense no immediate injury. In fact, other than a mild case of magical exhaustion, Neville appeared to be wholly recovered from his ordeals of first year. If anything, he seemed stronger, more assured, and just a bit angry at the moment.

"What are you doing here?" Neville grumbled as he untangled himself from the other two boys.

"What is it to you, Longbottom?" Draco asked with a sneeras Harry futilly searched for any sign of the creature. "You haven't spared two words to us, except when Harry's tutoring you."

"Quiet, Draco," murmered Harry as he stretched all his senses to their limit.

"I was really busy," Neville answered Draco, both of them so irritated at the other that they didn't even hear Harry's plea.

Besides it's not like any of you've goe out of your way to talk to me."

"Quiet."

"You, Weasel and Hermione left Harry in a body bind when he tried to help you, remember? Then he saves your arse from Vol – from You-Know-Who and you take credit for it!"

Unable to hear it any longer, a disappointed Harry turned his attention back to the conversation as Neville defended himself.

"We only did that to protect him!" the Gryffindor roared. "he was trying to go after a full grown wizard and he couldn't even protect himself. Besides, it wasn't Harry that stopped You-Know-Who, it was me... I mean, after all, how could he?"

Tiredly, Harry waved off Draco's angry retort before the blond could make it. "Look," he said. "I'm not going to argue with you about that, and maybe I haven't gone out of my way to talk to you. Since school started again though, you've been spending all your time with the Gryffindors, especially Ginny Weasley."

Blushing a bit, Neville hastily reminded them, "I'm a Gryffindor too," he said. "They're my housemates, I have to spend a lot of time with them."

"You're a Merlin too," Harry answered. "We share traits of all the houses. You should spend more time in our common room and be with everyone."

"Professor Dumbledore – "

"Professor Dumbledore is – " Harry took a calming breath and continued. "– isn't down here right now and you're just holding us up. Sorry, but we really have to be going."

"Wait," called Neville as Harry strode purposefully in the direction he thought the snake had been heading (and a very satisfied looking Malfoy heir right in step). "Why _are_ you down here anyway?"

he asked as he chased after them.

"Dudley thouthg he heard something in the walls the other day that talked about killing," Harry explained vaguely. We were just checking it out."

"But that could have been anyth – "

"I heard it too," Harry interrupted. "Draco and I were following it when we ran into you. So what are you doing down here during the feast?"

"I went to a Deathday party."

"You mean a Birthday party?" Harry asked.

"No," Neville corrected. "Sir Nicholas, the Gryffindor Ghost – "

"Nearly Headless Nick, you mean," cut in Draco.

"SIR Nicholas doesn't like to be called that," the Gryffindor admonished. "Today was his 500th anniversary of his Deathday, he invited us to his party."

"Us?" asked Draco as they turned another corner. "I knew you thought a lot of yourself, Longbottom, but now you're royalty?"

"No," growled Neville, irritation coming off him in waves. "Sir Nicholas said I could bring a friend, she just had to leave early."

"It's the Weasley tart isn't it?" Draco asked gleefully. "It has to be, she hangs off you like stink to a mud – oof! – hen!" he finished as he shot a hard glance at Harry and the offending elbow. "Have you set a wedding date yet?"

"She's nice!" Neville snarled. "Don't talk about her like that."

"Why's there water on the floor?" Harry asked as their steps began making spashing sounds.

"What – "

"The chamber of Secrets has been opened," Harry said in a questioning tone. "Enemies of the heir beware."

"Harry," asked Draco. "What are you talking about?"

"it's written on the wall in something that looks like it was alive... blood maybe."

"I can see it now," answered the blond. "It's glowing."

"There's something else there, I can't quite make it out – "

"Mrs Norris!" squeaked Neville.

"Where," asked Harry "I don't sense anything."

"She's hung up by the writing," explained Draco. "Quick, we need to get out of here before – "

"No students in the halls during the feast," came Filches gravely voice from down the corridor.


	9. Accusations

Disclaimer: Harry potter is the sole property of JKR... heck, she's rich enough to own everything else too... I just own my plotline

AN: I'm not thrilled with this chapter, but here it is... I had it on paper two weeks ago but just finally got it on disk. enjoy

P.S.: thanks to all the wonderful reviews, keep em coming.

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Ch9: Accusations

"It'll be detention for the lot of you," growled the caretaker as he shuffled down the corridor. "Worthless children, I remember when – " Filch stopped mid sentence and Harry felt a roiling wave of emotions rise to the surface of the old man's aura as he noticed his cat hung up like a piece of meat.

Disbelief and sorrow pounded against Harry's senses as Filch roughly pushed past him to reach Mrs Norris' side.

"Come on Mrs Norris," Filch begged in a breaking voice. "Wake up, we got rule breakers to punish." The cat, stiff as a board, of course made no response to his entreaties; in fact, she showed no signs of life at all.

Even to Harry's senses, Mrs Norris' aura was static. The sparks that marked her as a living creature didn't swirl about inside her like they should. Instead, they were frozen in place, dimmed but not doused. Harry didn't know what to make of it yet but he was fairly sure she wasn't truly dead. Had she been, there would have been no sparks at all. His study of the cat was interrupted, however, when an angry voice was directed at them.

"You!"

Harry's head whipped up at the tone of Filch's voice as he came out of his stupor. The caretaker stood glaring at them with a stiffened cat in his arms. The emotions coming from him were dominated by a rage that could only be described as murderous. At the same time, Harry barely noticed a growing crowd of students who must have been coming from the feast. Their whispers filled the hallway as Mr Filch stalked toward the three boys.

Harry was knocked aside as the caretaker charged up to Draco and grabbed him by the throat. "You killed my cat," he cried as Harry jumped to grab one of his arms in an attempt to pull him away. "I'll kill you, I'll – "

"Argus!" roared Professor Dumbledore as he hurried through the growing crowd of students. Filch, who'd just begun to violently shake Draco, froze on hearing the headmaster's voice. "Professor," he moaned pitifully as he held a reddening Draco by the neck, "my cat – "

"I understand my boy," Dumbledore soothed. "It's best, however, if we examine all the facts before assigning blame."

The headmaster and caretaker stood in a silent contest of wills as Filch held on to the weakly struggling Malfoy heir. Harry continued to pull on the old man's arm, though more violently now as he heard something coming, both reassuring and frightening in what it's arrival would bring. Thankfully, Filch at last gave a sigh of defeat and loosened his grip on Draco. The blond, feeling his captors hands beginning to give way, pulled free with a grunt and stumbled behind Harry, holding his throat.

Draco's freedom was won not a moment too soon as a barely heard flurry of wings became deafening in Harry's ears. Hedwig invisibly entered the corridor, angry and ready to defend its master and friends. The coatl flew in circles about the two boys, searching for whatever had caused their upset. Harry felt feather kisses from Hedwig's tongue as she hovered in front of him, checking to make sure he was alright before flying over and landing on Draco's shoulders. The blond was startled for a moment before recognising and accepting her welcome touch. Turning his attention back to Mr Filch, Harry saw the old man had forgotten them all together as he went back to fussing over the rigid form of Mrs Norris while the headmaster addressed the students.

"Everyone, please follow your prefects back to you houses. There is nothing more to be seen here tonight." Gently taking the sobbing caretaker by the shoulders, he urged, "Come with me Argus, we'll go to my office and sort this out." Looking back at the boys, he added, "Mr's Longbottom, Malfoy and Potter, I think it's best if you come along as well."

Professor Lockhart, who'd stayed far back as possible until calm had been restored, stepped up and made a suggestion. "You can use my office headmaster," he offered. "It's just upstairs, I'd be glad to lend you its use."

Dumbledore paused a moment as if holding an internal debate before he relented. "Very well, everyone please follow me."

Harry turned back to Draco as Professor Snape swept up to them and checked his godson's neck. The Slytherin head of house had moved up silently while the headmaster was speaking to the students, but had been sensed by Harry. From the feelings coming from both Slytherins, he knew that Filch's attack was going to have repercussions for the caretaker.

"Are you alright?" Snape asked Harry as he guided them to the DADA classroom. Harry could feel the professor's gaze raking over him, searching for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine," Harry reassured the professor. "Mr Filch only pushed me trying to get at Draco."

Their conversation was cut short as they were shepherded into professor Lockhart's office. Mrs Norris was placed on the desk and Professor Dumbledore spent several minutes just staring at the cat, at least that's what it looked like to everyone but Harry.

To him, sparks seemed to pour out of the headmaster's eyes in twin streams. They enveloped the cat's aura, but couldn't seem to change it in any way. Harry assumed that Dumbledore was using a wordless (and wandless) medical spell to determine Mrs Norris' condition. Meanwhile, everyone waited silently for the headmaster to finish his examination – everyone except Professor Lockhart of course.

Unable to keep his mouth shut with a captive audience present, Gilderoy rattled on about what curse could have killed Mrs Norris in such a way. He then began to regale them with a story of how he'd chased down a dark wizard who'd been doing the same thing to the poodle population of Manchester. Harry was seriously thinking about rapping his head hard enough against the table to escape the mindless prattle, even for the few precious minutes he'd be unconscious when Dumbledore announced that he'd finished his examination.

"She's not dead Argus," the headmaster said as he leaned heavily back in his chair. Harry would have thought the announcement would be good news but Professor Dumbledore was actually pulsating with anxiety. He hid it well though, Harry was fairly sure only he'd noticed it. The other professors were murmuring amongst themselves, Neville was staring at the floor, Draco was glaring at Mr Filch and the caretaker himself only had eyes for his cat.

"She's not breathing though," the old man said in a broken voice. "She's stiff as a board – oh, Mrs Norris!" he cried.

She's been petrified," Dumbledore explained. As he took Mr Filch by the shoulders again and gave them a reassuring squeeze. "Pomona has a group of newborn mandrakes in the greenhouse. As soon as they've matured, Severus can brew up a potion that will return Mrs Norris to her normal self."

"Of course she was only petrified," chirped Lockhart in a nearly hysterical tone as he quickly changed his story. "I deduced as much myself back in the corridor."

"Why wouldn't you have mentioned it then?" asked Professor Flitwick in a patient tone one would use with a slow-witted and difficult child.

"I was – waiting – for Professor Dumbledore to confirm it," the defence teacher said stupidly. "I wouldn't presume to speak for him in front of the students."

"Thank you Gilderoy, you're as sharp as ever," the headmaster said in a concilitory tone. "In any case, you've nothing to worry about Argus, she'll be fine."

With Professor Dumbledore's reassurance, Mr Filch heaved a shaky sigh and the tension melted, if just for a moment, from both his voice and aura. That blessed state didn't last long, however, as the caretaker's ire flared and his sparks turned red with anger.

"There's still punishment to be given out to whomever hurt my cat," Filch growled as he glared daggers at Draco. Harry couldn't see Filches pointed stare, but he didn't have to. Draco's reaction to the words, a combination of fear and outrage, told him who the caretaker blamed for his cat's condition. Any lingering doubts about who might be blamed was cast aside as he spoke.

"It was him," Snarled Mr Filch as he stabbed a gnarled finger in their direction. "He's just like his father, arrogant pureblood trash. You all think you're better than the rest of us." Turning to the headmaster, he cried, "You've seen it, the sneers, the evil looks he gives me and Mrs Norris... I'll wipe that smug look from his face, he can't treat me this way just because – "

"Because what?" asked an incensed Draco. "Because I'm a pureblood, or that I'm a malfoy? If you hate me that much I'm surprised you haven't hex..." A look of comprehension crossed Draco's face as he stared at the now anxious caretaker. Fires seemed to light in his eyes as Draco voiced his epiphany.

"I've just realized it, I'd say I'd been blind but you're really beneath my notice. In the year and a half I've been here, I've never seen you cast a single spell. You're always carrying around that smelly old lamp instead of performing a proper lumos, you always clean up messes by hand (your own or a students) rather than using a banishing spell, and you can't attack me now, even though you think I hurt your precious cat." Draco's eyes became hard and his voice even more gleeful. "You hate us don't you? All of us kids running around causing trouble with our magic and there's nothing you can do about it but feel jealous... You're nothing but a Squib, aren't you?"

Mr Filch, who'd been getting paler by the second as Draco spoke, turned beet red and tried, ineffectively, to charge at the Malfoy heir again. "You little bastard," he roared. "You can't talk to me like that! I'll have your head mounted on my wall!"

The professors all moved to block the caretaker and try calming him while Draco stood to the side with a rapturous look on his face, at least until he noticed Harry.

The Ravenclaw wore an angry frown on his face that was a bit reminiscent of his expression last term in the room of requirement. Draco's actions, or lack thereof, had nearly cost their friendship. Whatever he'd done this time, it was nowhere as bad as then, still he'd no time to hash it out with is friend as Dumbledore, finally calming Mr Filch and sending him back to his quarters, was regarding them with a stern yet somehow gentle demeanour.

"Now boys," he coaxed. "Why don't you tell me what happened in the corridor earlier."

There was a few moments silence as the three shifted about uncomfortably under the headmaster's stare. To Harry, Professor Dumbledore aura seemed less well contained than normal. Every so often, sparks would flare, conveying anger, fear and impatience. Harry did feel a bit intimidated, but held back, not wanting to give up any of his secrets quite yet. In the end, it was Neville that broke the silence first, though what he said both shocked and angered the other two.

"I didn't have anything to do with it, really!" Neville whined. "Sir Nicholas was having a Deathday party and I was coming back from that when those two came running around a corner and knocked me down. I don't know what they were doing but they were headed toward where Mrs Norris got attacked."

Harry and Draco both wore gob-smacked expressions as Neville, who twenty minutes before had been all for joining back with their small group of friends, was now talking about them like they'd planned what happened to Mrs Norris. What even more confused Harry were the emotions raging inside Longbottom. It wasn't anger or outrage, but fear.

Neville's voice quavered with unspent emotion; his tone was unnaturally high and strained, while his aura was bathed in fear, though Harry couldn't figure out why. Draco, on the other hand, was boiling with anger and had no problem voicing it.

"What are you on about Longbottom?" he demanded when he got control of his voice back. "We all fell down because your fat arse was blocking the whole corridor. And don't pretend you don't know why we were there. Harry and I explained that earlier and you had no problem with it then."

"You mean that nonsense about checking on a noise that Dudley heard?" scoffed Neville. "That was before I saw what you did to Filch's cat!"

"Now Neville," the headmaster admonished softly as he place a grandfatherly hand on the boy's shoulder. "There is of yet no proof that either Mr Malfoy or Mr Potter were doing anything other than what they said. Still," he added, turning his twinkling gaze on the boys in question, "I would like to hear, directly from them, what they were doing."

"It's what we've been saying," Harry protested. "Dudley heard something behind the walls and we, Draco and I, were just trying to make him feel better by checking it out. We were stunned to actually hear something too. That's what we were trying to follow when we ran into Neville."

Professor Dumbledore's aura flared in the area of his eyes as Harry told his story. Sparks of magic flowed from the headmaster and tried enter Harry's head, causing a tingling feeling behind his eyes that Harry found more than a bit uncomfortable. The sensation was just beginning to become painful when it stopped; the stream of magic was interrupted when Professor Snape slid smoothly between them.

"If I may," the potions master said in his silky voice. "It's most likely that the boys were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. If last year's events tell us nothing else, it is that they excel in that particular feat. After all, two second year students could hardly master a petrification spell, that's highly advanced dark magic. Few fully grown wizards would be capable of such a spell."

"Right as always Severus," Professor Dumbledore said at last. "Neither of them would be capable of casting that particular curse; still, Mr Malfoy brought Mr Potter into a situation that could have been potentially dangerous. For being out of bounds during the feast, you both will have five points deducted from your house."

"What?" they cried in unison.

"Additionally," the headmaster continued, unruffled by their protest. "Another five points will be taken from Slytherin for leading a schoolmate into unnecessary danger."

"That's not fair!" shouted Draco as Harry fumed. "I didn't 'lead' Harry anywhere."

"Finally," Dumbledore said, beginning to look annoyed by the interruptions. "The way you treated Mr Filch was insensitive at best. Such disrespect for a member of the staff, regardless of his standing as wizard or squib, would normally be dealt with by harsh punishment," he said, pausing to make the offence sound more grave. "Still, with everything that's happened this evening, it might be possible to forgo punishment if certain... actions on Mr Filch's part were given the proper perspective when and if it becomes necessary to explain this all to your families."

A look of incomprehension quickly turned to anger on Draco's face as he digested the headmaster's request. "The bloody wanker tried to kill me!" screeched the blond. "He had me by the throat... look... bruises," he said, pulling his collar back to expose ugly welts left by the caretaker's fingers. "He attacked me for no reason, do you really think my father will let that go because I called that stupid old man a squib?"

Sparks of agitation flared from Professor Dumbledore, directed at the Malfoy heir. Harry could also tell that the headmaster's breathing was slightly faster and his voice a bit strained. Still, the professor kept his mask of calm mostly intact as he attempted to prevent the situation from escalating.

"You and your father have every right to be upset over Argus' actions earlier this evening and it is fully within his rights to perform an investigation. I was only hoping that you could understand Mr Filch's point of view before any action might be considered. He was obviously distraught over tonight's occurrences and he wasn't in the right frame of mind. Your father will likely arrive tomorrow to discover exactly what happened before taking any action and If you spoke with him first, certain punishments might be lessened in their severity."

"Headmaster," an agitated Professor Snape said as he tried to interpose himself between the two. "As Mr Malfoy's head of house –"

"Please Professor," Draco said with an odd tone to his voice that reminded Harry uncomfortably of Malfoy Sr. "I want to hear what the headmaster has to say. I mean after all, he's willing to reverse all the punishments against Harry and I for this one favour."

"I believe that I only offered a lessening of punishment in regards to you," corrected the headmaster with an edge back in his tone. "I said nothing about reversing them completely for you or Mr Potter."

"He attacked me in front of dozens of witnesses," said Draco, suddenly doe eyed. Letting his voice quaver in faked emotion, "Father and the rest of the board of governors will be devastated to find out that Hogwarts, the safest place in wizarding world is harbouring a violent maniac. It will be Azkaban for him at least." he finished with an evil smirk.

With a heavy sigh, Professor Dumbledore relented. "Very well then, when your father arrives tomorrow, I would expect you to speak with him and mitigate as best you can, what happened tonight. In return, all reprisals for you both will be reversed until and unless you do not follow through with your promise. Doing so would void our agreement and reinstate the punishments. Severus, if you wouldn't mind escorting the boys back to their houses, the other professors and I will be looking further into Mrs Norris' condition."

Gathering the boys without another word, Professor Snape lead them out of Lockhart's office while the other professors muttered in low tones amongst themselves. As the door closed, Harry thought he'd heard one of them saying something about the Chamber of Secrets.

Not a word was said by any of them as they made their way to Gryffindor Tower. There were a few times when Neville seemed about to speak but lost his nerve before doing so. Reaching the portrait of the fat lady, Neville turned to them one last time as the portal opened for the professor.

"Harry," he began weakly.

"Save it Longbottom," snarled Draco fiercely. "After everything you already said, you think he really wants to hear anything you have to say?"

Neville took a breath to retort but something, either Harry's closed expression or Snape's glare kept him from saying it. After the entrance to the Gryffindor Tower had closed behind their erstwhile friend, Harry turned on his heel to head toward the Ravenclaw tower. He pulled up short, however, as the professor's hand took his shoulder and guided him to the stairs.

Again, nothing was said by any of them as they made their way to the fifth floor. It wasn't like when Neville had been with them, they were more than comfortable with each other. They just knew that whatever they had to say could wait until they reached their destination.

Arriving at a blank stretch of wall opposite the portrait of poor Barnabas, Harry stepped forward and paced in front of it the required three times. After the last pass, a plain wooden door appeared and opened at his touch. Inside was their normal training room with the addition of a table and four comfy chairs.

After the door closed behind them, Harry strode toward the table and called out, "Sal, we need to talk to you."

Harry, Draco and Severus sat down at the table, waiting for their enigmatic mentor to make his appearance. Minutes passed with no sign of Sal's presence so the professor began his own questioning of the boys.

"What actually happened tonight?"he asked in a calm, even tone. "Start at the beginning and leave nothing out."

"A few nights ago, Dudley heard a voice coming from behind a wall in the second floor corridor," Harry explained. "The voice scared him because it talked about killing people. We, Draco and I, went to check it out tonight; we didn't know what to expect, whether it was Dudley's imagination, the prank of some upper-classman or a real threat. I know that I probably should have come to you at once but I had to know if it was real or not first."

"It's a giant snake, Severus," Draco yelped, unable to contain himself.

"You saw it then," Snape asked with intensity. "Can you describe it?"

"Well..." answered Harry reluctantly. "We didn't actually see it."

"Of course you didn't, Harry," Snape said sharply. "But you, Draco. You must have – " A shake of Draco's head put a frown back on the professor's face. "Then how could you know what it is?"

"We heard it hissing," Harry answered after a short pause. "It's the same thing Dudley heard."

"You said he heard it talking about killing people," the professor prodded impatiently. "You're saying it spoke English?"

"No," Harry replied with a heavy sigh. "The snake was hissing."

"Then he only thought he heard – "

"I heard it talk about killing people, intruders, too."

Seconds ticked by as Professor Snape lined up the pieces of a puzzle in his head and refused to fit them together. "How could you have understood what a snake was saying?" he asked slowly.

"The same way I talk to Hedwig," he replied quietly. "I'm a Parselmouth."

"And that means that Dudley is too," crowed Draco. "Can you believe it? Two of them at one time... I mean for the longest time the only one was... well, you know... 'You-Know-Who.'"

Harry felt Severus' mental shields ripple as the professor digested the latest revelation. He was unsure how Snape would react, Parselmouths had a bad reputation thanks to a select few that had the gift and used it as a weapon of fear. Snape had experienced the worst of them in memory. Harry expected fear or maybe disbelief, what he got was a calm and almost amused response.

"Go on."

"You believe me then?" Harry asked in relieved surprise. "You don't think it makes me dark?"

"Having a dark gift hardly makes you dark," was Snape's reply. "As for believing you, in the time I've known you, I've seen a boy capable of healing, wandless magic and extra sensory abilities capably defend himself from multiple enemies, including two encounters with the Dark Lord himself. Perhaps if you told me you were running about in your pyjamas rescuing maidens... perhaps, just perhaps it would be stretching your credibility. As for the Parseltongue, I'd suspected you might possess that ability for some time. Your revelation does nothing but confirm it. I'd be more interested to find out how Dudley came by this gift. From what I remember of your mother, she never claimed the ability. That, along with the fact that both your grandparents and Petunia herself are muggles, makes this a bit of a mystery. That aside, however..."

"Right," Harry said, clearing his throat. "Draco wanted to go after you straight off but I was worried that it, whatever it was, would get somebody before help arrived."

"I was just trying to keep you out of trouble," Draco whined.

"And a wonderful job you did," Snape added, his voice dripping with amused sarcasm. "That's when you ran into Longbottom?"

"Literally," answered Harry with a nod. "We ran down a few corridors first," he remembered. "Neville just happened to be coming around the same corner we did. All of us fell in a big heap, then Draco and Neville started yelling at each other."

"Malfoys do not yell," snapped Draco petulantly. "We just make sure our opinions are heard."

"By everyone for a kilometre."

"Ha – Ha," Draco answered with a scowl. "I was just defending you anyway; you never even said a word."

"I did too," Harry complained. "I kept telling you both to be quiet so I could listen for the snake."

"And then," prodded the professor impatiently. The boys were so wrapped up in their bickering the story had ground to a halt.

"From there we just kind of walked and argued," continued Draco, picking up the story where they'd left it. "At least until we ran into Mrs Norris; that's when Longbottom showed his true colours again."

Harry opened his mouth to defend Neville but found that he didn't have the stomach for it. Draco was right about one thing at least. From the moment the questions started, Longbottom had all but accused them of petrifying Mrs Norris. The only one to try and justify his actions, much to Harry and Draco's surprise, was Professor Snape.

"What Mr Longbottom did, while being reprehensible, is at least explainable.

"Of course it is," Draco snapped, "he's a git."

Sending a warning look toward his godson, Severus continued, directing a question toward Harry. "You remember our conversation this summer at the Leaky Cauldron?"

"Yes sir," Harry replied with a nod. "I guess you mean the part about Dumbledore, Neville and the prophecy."

"Exactly," Snape confirmed with a grim smile. "He's making Longbottom into a weapon. To do so, he's building the boy's confidence with praise and attention. Being in his situation, Longbottom can't help but to be grateful, even begin seeing the headmaster as some sort of father figure."

"And Neville will do anything to protect their relationship," Harry whispered, more a statement than a question.

"As I said before, it excuses none of his actions," Snape said dismissively. "While troubling, the boy's relationship with the headmaster is second in importance to the danger posed by your creature, you're sure it was a snake?"

"I'm pretty sure," Harry answered. "When I talk to them it's not really 'hearing.' It's like they're speaking English in my head, not with my ears."

"And this only happens with Snakes?"

"As far as I know," Harry replied. "Sal says it's the language of serpents but I think Loki maybe understands it as well, though I never heard him speak yet."

"Then our priority is discovering what this mysterious snake is and who's controlling it."

"Slytherin's heir, you mean," supplied Draco.

Nodding, Snape continued. It was common knowledge that Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth and this 'heir' must be one as well to be able to control the snake. Because of that, the fact that both Dudley and yourself can speak it must stay a secret. If it became known that you could both speak it you would be suspected as the heir."

"But he could be," Draco said excitedly. "I mean, after all, Salazar Slytherin lived a thousand years ago... There's no telling who might be descended from him."

"Except that I didn't set a giant snake loose in the school," Harry reminded his friend sourly.

"Oh, right," the blond said, his exuberance deflated a bit.

"As to identifying the creature," Severus continued patiently. "While there can't be many snakes that size with the ability to petrify their prey, Documentation of such creatures may be difficult to locate. The ministry has deemed the study of Snakes to be a dark practice, being such, anything about them will either be well hidden in other books or Locked away."

"Why don't we ask Sal?" asked Draco in a lazy drawl. "He's one of the caretakers, after all. Not to mention that he _is_ Salazar. If it happened in the castle, he should know about it."

"Unfortunately," said an unusually grim Ric as he appeared in the table's only empty seat, "Sal is missing and none of us know exactly what happened tonight. The first we knew of the attack was when you stumbled upon Mrs Norris earlier."

"What do you mean by 'missing'," Harry yelped

"He can't have," Draco said reassuringly. "He's part of the castle.

"Not exactly," Ric corrected. "While we were woven into the spells and wards that make Hogwarts magical, we all remain free spirits and have a certain amount of freedom within its walls. Sal has gone off on his own before, regularly in fact. But always near the summer solstice for _ personal _ reasons. The only other time he vanished like this was about fifty years ago."

"Fifty years," Severus repeated in a hollow voice. "You wouldn't happen to remember what year..."

"It was when the Chamber of Secrets was last opened," supplied Ro from the shadows. "Just as it happened tonight, Sal vanished just before the first attack and didn't return until after the last. He's never said where he went or what happened, no matter how we asked."

"What is the Chamber of Secrets?" Harry asked. "The message on the wall said that it had been opened again and for the enemies of the heir to beware. What does all that have to do with Sal?"

There was an uncomfortable pause after Harry's question. It was as if they were unwilling to part with the information. It was Helga who broke the silence to explain.

"The Chamber of Secrets is Sal's sanctum, the one place inside Hogwarts where he can truly be alone. It's also where his guardian beast resides."

"What's that?" asked Harry a half moment ahead of Snape and Draco.

"The guardian beasts are just that," Ric explained. "They're part of Hogwarts last line of defence. Sal and I both got them right after the school opened. He put his in the Chamber as a secret weapon agianst intruders; Fawkes, on the other hand has always been in plain sight.

"Fawkes?" Harry asked.

"My phoenix," Ric explained. "He serves as companion to all the Hogwarts headmasters as well as being their eyes and ears in the castle."

"So this guardian beast is what attacked Mrs Norris," Harry surmised. "So what is it an why go after Mr Filch's cat?"

"I honestly don't know," Ric answered with a frustrated sigh. "None of us do. Sal's always believed that keeping its true nature secret would make it harder for an enemy to counter."

"Even from you?"

"Even us."

"So how did it get out?" Harry asked. "I mean, it sounds like only Sal can get into it."

"Slytherin's heir," Snape murmured quietly.

"What was that?" Harry asked, not quite hearing what the professor had said.

"The heir," Snape repeated. "It only makes sense. Salazar would only have wanted somebody he could trust to be able to enter after him, who else than family? It's the Heir that's opened the chamber, it's him that's controlling the beast."

"But who is it?" Harry asked. There's got to be more than two hundred students in the school along with the staff. It could be any of them."

"Then we'll just have to find out who, won't we?" Snape answered as he stood. "In the mean time, there are two boys up long past their bedtime. Let's get you both back to your houses and we'll talk more about this later."

Taking his leave of the remaining founders, Snape lead the two increasingly groggy youths to their houses. Harry, upon arriving at his dormitory, fell fully clothed into his bed, not even taking the time to remove his shoes.

The next morning, Harry felt like he and Draco were both the centre of every conversation in earshot. Draco appeared to have taken the role of villain in the previous night's drama, leaving Harry, Neville and Mrs Norris as his unfortunate victims, to one degree or another.

Longbottom, for his part, seemed quite content going along wth the wildly changing story about the 'Halloween night massacre', as it had come to be called, going as far to say that Draco had laughed over the frozen form of Mrs Norris when they'd found her. He hadn't gone to the point of actually accusing Draco of any misdeed to any of the students though, as of yet.

Thorne had almost been as big a bother as Neville, though not because he was accusing them of anything. Rather, he was going on and on about the Chamber of Secrets. Damien was careful never to speak loud enough for the professors to hear but made it clear to all the students nearby exactly what he thought of mudbloods and what the heir of Slytherin would do to them.

"There's the top of our list for heir," Draco muttered over his porridge. "He's having entirely too much fun over this... that, and none of this really started until he transferred here this year."

"I don't know," Harry answered thoughtfully. "I mean he acts like you think the heir would, but it just seems too easy. Still – "

Harry's thought was interrupted by the doors to the Great Hall swinging open, admitting someone who's aura was very familiar to Harry. Lucius Malfoy, flanked by two unfamiliar wizards that Draco identified as aurors, swept through the room, stopping in front of the headmaster. A privacy spell was cast by one of the wizards, blocking the students from hearing the conversation that followed though Draco informed Harry that whatever they were talking about, (as if they didn't know) the exchange was quite heated. Shortly, the headmaster, Lucius, the aurors and a Nervous Mr Filch were headed toward a side door to the hall, ostensibly on their way to the headmaster's office.

At first, Draco had had been bursting with glee over the caretaker's predicament. Filch had taken a lot of satisfaction the previous year sending them into the forbidden forest with Hagrid, not to mention all the minor detentions and point deductions he'd rained on all the houses. Mr Filch had earned Draco's enmity and it looked like the blond was going to enjoy every second of the old man's discomfort until, during the exchange at the head table, Lucius had turned to meet his son's gaze for a moment.

The surge of anger that blossomed from the elder Malfoy almost made Harry physically ill. The effect was also evident in Draco's aura, though nobody else seemed to notice.

"What's wrong with your father?" Harry asked. "I can sense that he's really mad at something."

"It's me," Draco said with a gulp. "I think it's got something to do with that warning he gave me before school started. He wanted me to stay out of trouble but I'm thick in the middle of it."

Harry never found out what was said in that meeting, nor what Lucius had said to Draco in private later that morning. All he knew was that Mr Filch hadn't been arrested like everyone had thought, rather he walked around with a more sour expression than ever, not daring to touch any of the students but more than willing to pass out detentions, even for the slightest offences. He went as far as to dock a Hufflepuff boy ten points for breathing too loudly. The rest of his time was spent trying, unsuccessfully, to clean the writing off the wall where Mrs Norris was attacked.

Draco refused to say exactly what was said between him and his father that day, though he voiced a suspicion that they had all had from the beginning. "He's part of this somehow," the blond said as he and Harry sat perched atop the astronomy tower later that day.

Putting down his flute, Harry waited a few seconds for his friend to continue before asking, "A part of what?"

"He repeated the warning he gave me before school started, he told me to stay away from you. I think he knew all this was going to happen, that the chamber was going to be opened."

"Did he say anything else?" Harry asked.

"Nothing I'd repeat," Draco answered. "Just how disappointed he is in me... I don't think he exactly trusts me anymore."

"Well I can understand that," Harry said consolingly. "I mean its not like we can trust him all that much either."

Taking the half hearted laugh from his friend as a good sign, Harry went back to playing and thinking about what they should do next.

Weeks passed and life picked up a routine again. Dudley, warned by Harry to keep his parseltongue gift a secret continued to meet with the study group regularly. Mr Filch continued to harass the students in the only ways he could, with a sharp tongue and detentions. The way that the other students acted around them changed markedly though.

Harry and Draco's classmates still gave the Malfoy heir fearful looks and whispered about him being Slytherin's heir at every turn. Harry was uncomfortable with it but Draco seemed to bask in the attention. "They're going to say it anyway," he told Harry one day early the first week, after making a Hufflepuff boy panic and bolt, face first, into a stone wall. "I may as well have a little fun with it while I can."

Their morning training continued even with Sal's continued absence. Ric, Ro and Helga worked to improve their physical and magical prowess, while Professor Snape began teaching them the rudiments of a mental discipline called Occlumency.

The evening of the attack, Snape had recognised the headmaster's attempt to access Harry's thoughts. He'd interrupted Dumbledore easily enough but recognised the need to teach his charges to protect themselves. After hearing the reasons behind the lessons, both Harry and Draco threw themselves into their practice sessions with a passion.

Attendance in their study group dropped sharply after Halloween. Most of the students from every house believed Draco was responsible for Mrs Norris condition and kept their distance. From the original group of almost twenty first and second years, the only remaining students that were willing to study with them were Terry and Luna from Ravenclaw, Dudley from Hufflepuff, Blaise from Slytherin and Ron Weasley from Gryffindor.

Draco had been shocked at first to see the Weasel supporting him, their relationship could never have been called even remotely friendly. Ron had explained, however, after Draco had kept watch over him last term when he'd been hurt while they'd gone after the stone. To him, it proved that Draco wasn't all bad. "Plus," the redhead added with a smirk, "Malfoy is too dense to be the heir of Slytherin." A war of insults followed that remark but Weasley stayed with the group. Ron turned out not to be the only Gryffindor that believed in them, however, as they found out a few days later.

They were pouring over books in the library, searching for snakes that fit the facts that they had when Hermione quietly sat down beside Draco and asked if she could help. Harry and Draco put their heads together as whispers went back and forth between them. Finally, after a short conversation and a nearly imperceptible nod from Harry, Draco pushed his book over to share with her while he explained, quietly what they were doing.

Harry smiled to himself as he heard Draco's breathing become a bit more rapid, likely due to their being so close together. Satisfied that his friend would be preoccupied for a while, Harry turned back to Luna, who'd been trying to convince him that everything that happened was due to a mirror monster known as a Ksilisab. She swore that they were a real problem and her father's paper, The Quibbler, had posted several articles about them already.

Harry fought the impulse to laugh and pretended to take her input very seriously. He never really knew if she was joking or serious but either way, Luna always found a way to make him smile.


	10. The Rogue Bludger

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is the property of JKR and Scholastic, I just own my own little twist to the plot

Slytherin's Heir, ch 10 The Rogue Bludger

Harry's study group continued to meet in the Merlin common room and the library even with its diminished numbers. They tried to puzzle out the type of snake behind the attacks but found that Professor Snape's initial guess had been right, there were little or no references to magical snakes of any kind in the readily accessible portion of the library. Going through their texts held little promise either.

The second year texts only covered material related to their subjects. Even the COMC texts that the older students used only lightly mentioned the subject of serpents. Harry had a bit better luck with the books he'd purchased at Borgin and Burks; one of them contained a short listing of the more common magical snakes but didn't go into any detail. Harry had sent off a letter to Mr Burke requesting anything he had on them but had yet to receive a reply. Their lack of progress was beginning to frustrate Harry and it was Hermione's suggestion that they try something else, such as retracing Harry and Draco's route on Halloween that kept him from giving up.

"Lets start where you found Mrs Norris," Hermione said as she, Harry and Draco arrived in the corridor where Mr Filch's cat had been attacked. A lonely chair sat against a wall beside the writing left behind by the attacker. Of late, the caretaker had been spending his time guarding the corridor as if expecting the attacker to return to the scene of the crime.

The bloody words were still as vivid on the wall as they'd been that first night, regardless of Mr Filch's attempts to be rid of them. The water that had covered the floor was gone though, Hermione surmised that it had probably been caused by backed up pipes in a nearby bathroom. The bushy haired girl was confident something could be found to help them figure out more of what had happened, Draco was less enthusiastic.

"It's been weeks," he complained, kicking a loose pebble. "There's nothing here that makes it different than any other corridor in the castle."

"It can't hurt to look," Hermione answered patiently as she studied the torch bracket. "Mrs Norris was hung from this?"

"By her tail," Draco confirmed while Harry focused his attention on a piece of wall close to a nearby window.

"Don't you think that would be a bit difficult for a snake?" she asked thoughtfully. "Snakes don't have arms and the way Mrs Norris was found was a deliberate attempt to intimidate the students. Not to mention the writing on the wall. They're not known for their penmanship."

Distracted from whatever he was studying, Harry turned his head to give Hermione his full attention while Draco huffed in frustration. "You're saying the snake didn't petrify the cat?"

"Or it wasn't alone," Harry said quietly as he turned his attention back to the wall.

"The heir," Draco yelped excitedly.

"Perhaps since Mrs Norris really wasn't an intruder, the heir would have had to been there to make the snake attack," Hermione agreed. "He or she would probably have to in order to make it do something like that."

"So we just find out who wasn't at the feast that night and have the heir," Draco announced with a self-satisfied smirk.

"I don't think it will be that easy," Hermione countered as she faced the blond. "People were in and out of the hall all night. The only time just about everyone was there was when they passed out the treats. From what I've heard, nobody in their right mind would miss that on purpose."

"There, you see?" Draco demanded while Harry continued to ignore him in favour of his discovery. "Nobody in their right mind would miss out on Chocolate Crawlies."

"I remember those," Hermione said with a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Ron Weasley was going around all the tables collecting the ones that weren't claimed. He got a lot from the Merlin table."

"Weasley – Weasley?" half screamed Draco, now in a rage. "That's it, I'll turn his underwear into earthworms, I'll hex his hair off – hey!" he called after her as she stifled a snicker and went to check on Harry.

"Did you find anything?" she asked, peeking over his shoulder.

"Insects, I think," he replied distractedly. "It's hard to tell with something this small."

"They're spiders," Hermione replied with a frown. "I've never heard of them moving like that though."

Just as she'd said, the spiders were acting oddly. A seemingly endless column of them were marching across the corridor, up the wall and out the window. It was hardly orderly, the little creatures were climbing over each other and milling about, seeming to almost be in a panic.

"So what does it mean?" asked Draco, who'd hunched down beside them.

"I haven't a clue," answered Hermione softly while writing furiously in her muggle notebook. "Let's go back the way you came and see what else we can find."

The trio followed Harry and Draco's path on Halloween back to where Dudley and they had first heard the snake. This was another long shot, the corridors were used daily and any evidence, overt or not, would have long since been wiped out. Still, with nothing else to go on, they followed the twists and turns that would lead them to the spot where Dudley had first heard the voice. Along the way, the boys pointed out where they'd encountered Neville.

"Has anybody talked to Ginny Weasley about Halloween?" Hermione asked the two uncomprehending boys. "You told me yourself," she reminded them. "Neville said she left the party before him, maybe she saw or heard something on the way back to the Gryffindor common room."

"See," Draco said to Harry as they continued their trek through the halls. "Things like this is why I always said we need her."

"Really," Harry replied with quietly with a grin. "I thought it was because you doodle her name on all your assignments."

Stopping in the middle of the hallway, Draco gaped after Harry's retreating back before running to catch up. "I do not," he yelped.

"You don't what?" asked the bushy haired girl innocently.

"I don't..." Draco said, floundering for an answer. "I don't see why the Weasley girl hangs around Longbottom so much."

"It is kind of odd, really," Hermione agreed as they walked. "When she first got to school, everyone was saying that she had a crush on you, Harry. Two weeks into term she suddenly quit talking about you and focused completely on Neville."

"I guess she must have fallen for Dumbledore's stories."

"It's _Professor_ Dumbledore, Harry. I know you don't get along with him but he _is_ still the headmaster and you have to show him the proper respect."

Shrugging non-committally, Harry kept on walking until they reached the section of corridor where they'd heard the snake first. The three spread out and searched for any possible clues but nothing new seemed likely to present itself. Harry had just given up trying to sense anything through the walls when Hermione called from a nearby doorway.

"This is Myrtle's bathroom," she explained. "Maybe she heard the snake you're talking about too."

This is a _girls_ bathroom," Draco complained when they'd entered. "This is definitely a place I'd rather not be. Who's Myrtle anyway and why does she live in a bathroom?"

"You're not supposed to be in here."

Draco, not expecting the disembodied voice above them, squeaked and whirled around in a panic. Hermione, who'd expected Myrtle, waited with a patient and friendly expression while Harry, who'd senses stretched in every direction, had noticed her and was prepared when she announced herself.

"How are you Myrtle," Hermione asked as the Ghostly girl perched herself atop one of the toilet stalls. "This is Harry and Draco, I've told them all about you and they wanted to come and meet you."

Squealing in delight, Myrtle floated down from her perch and studied the boys.

"Nobody's ever come to visit me before," she said semi-sweetly, "not even when I was still alive." Her attitude, which had been almost simpering, suddenly became angry and aggressive when she asked, "You're not one of them, are you? One of the nasty boys who would make fun of poor Myrtle and laugh at her?"

"No," Harry answered in his sincerest tone. "We really are interested in getting to know you and learn about your home. I guess it must get loud around here at night, especially on holidays like the Halloween that just passed."

"It can be horrible," Myrtle agreed with a sigh, her moods swinging like a pendulum. "I don't remember much about this last Halloween though, I was distracted. Peeves was being so mean to me that I tried to kill myself and – "

"Kill yourself?" demanded an outraged Draco, who'd heard more than enough. "You're a _ghost_, you're already _dead_ you wailing bag of gas!"

A screech of pure misery erupted from Myrtle as she soared upward, did a back-flip and splashed into one of the nearby toilet stalls, drenching them all.

"Please tell me that was a sink," Harry begged as the ghost's sobs went on from somewhere around the U-bend. "Don't you know what Subtle is, Draco? Did you pay the Sorting hat to put you in Slytherin?" He asked as they left the bathroom. The door had yet to close before they were confronted with yet another inconvenience.

"You there, Stop."

The person who'd cried out approached and when Draco got a good look at him he slapped a hand over his eyes and with a melodramatic sigh, muttered, "They're like cockroaches."

Percy Weasley, prefect for Gryffindor house came bustling up to the three, bursting with official indignation. "Did I just see you three coming out of the girls bathroom?" he asked sternly.

"I am a girl," Hermione said, trying to distract him.

"They're not," the redhead shot back. "You could get expelled for this."

"But we weren't doing anything," Harry protested. "This is the stretch of corridor where we started hearing noises on Halloween," he explained. We just wanted to ask Myrtle – "

"Nothing," snapped Percy. "You'll ask her nothing. The headmaster made it quite clear that the staff would be investigating the attack on Mrs Norris. There's no need for any of you to be getting in the way."

"But surely you can understand – "

"What I understand, Ms Granger," is that two of you went out of bounds while all of you were meddling in something that's been forbidden. Five points from both Slytherin and Ravenclaw for being in the girls loo and another five from all three houses if you all don't go straight back to your dorms!"

"But Percy..." Hermione began.

"I'll remind you that I'm a Gryffindor prefect," the redhead said pompously. "As such, you will address me as Mr Weasley."

Draco opened his mouth but never had a chance to speak before Harry began pushing him down the corridor. " Yes sir, Mr Weasley," the Ravenclaw said over his shoulder. "We're going there now."

"Harry!" protested the blond.

"Be quiet unless you want to explain to your house mates how Slytherin lost twenty or thirty points," he whispered urgently as the three rounded a corner. "Besides, tomorrow is the first Quidditch match of the year, you can get your revenge watching Gryffindor get their arses handed to them by Slytherin."

Brightening at the prospect, Draco quit resisting. With a much lighter mood, he, a scandalized Hermione and a satisfied Harry headed for the Merlin common room. Harry's day wasn't over yet though, he had an appointment to keep elsewhere in the castle.

xXx

The library was quiet later that night, most of the students had gone to bed early in anticipation of the next day's Quidditch match. One of the few students still up was Neville. Harry found him hunched over a potions text and scribbling fiercely on a spare piece of parchment. Harry studied the Gryffindor's aura for a bit before interrupting.

Neville still showed signs of magical exhaustion that, if anything, had grown more pronounced. The boys physical health seemed to have suffered a bit as well; while not sick exactly, he seemed somehow weaker. Not wanting to startle the other youth, Harry coughed quietly as he approached.

A slight shuffling of Neville's chair along with a a change in his aura informed Harry that he'd unsettled the other boy anyway. Choosing a chair across from his one-time friend, Harry said, "Lo' Nev, mind if I sit?"

Taking a lack of response as Acquiescence, Harry sat and fidgeted a few moments trying to collect his thoughts. It was the sounds of Neville collecting his things that prompted him to speak again . "Wait," he said. "How are you... I mean, are you alright? You feel... run-down."

"M' fine," muttered the Gryffindor. "I'm just a little tired."

"Listen, about Halloween, you know Draco and I had nothing to do with Mrs Norris but I think I can guess why you acted like you did in Lockhart's office. I know that you and the headmaster have gotten really close since last term, how he goes on with you about your parents and all the stories. It's pretty likely that he's the one that sent you that cloak on Christmas. I know you look up to him and everything, but don't you wonder why? There's over two hundred students at Hogwarts Neville, don't you ever wonder why he spends so much time with you?"

"What are you trying to say exactly? Neville asked, his voice and aura now coloured with anger and suspicion.

"Has Professor Dumbledore ever said anything to you about a prophecy?"

Neville didn't answer, though an impatient sigh meant he was tiring of the conversation.

"Please hear me out," Harry begged. "I heard from somebody I trust that there was a prophecy made Just before we were born. They didn't hear the whole thing but the part they did said this, Somebody born at the end of July and who's parents had gone up against Voldemort three times would have the power to stop the Dark Lord. According to this person there's only two people that fit the prophecy, you and me."

A deafening silence fell between the two before a disbelieving Neville could ask, "What?"

"One of us will have to face him one day," Harry explained. "Both our parents were targeted by Voldemort over this, mine were killed, yours... Because of the whole 'Boy Who Lived' thing, I was thought to be the one till my accident. Dumbledore didn't think there was any way I could do it without my sight so he turned to you."

"Again, what are you trying to say?"

"Dumbledore is the only one that knows the whole prophecy," Harry spat. "He sent my family into hiding, he put the wards up around both our families homes. Don't get me wrong, those are all good things but he was concentrating so much on me, then you for a reason. One of us has to take down Voldemort and the headmaster may be trying to set you up for it."

"You're jealous."

"What?" Harry asked, not quite comprehending what Neville just said, though it earned him a 'shush' from Madam Pince.

"You said it yourself," Neville answered angrily. "When you were little it was all about you; now that it's me, you're suddenly suspicious of his motives."

"It's not like that – "

"Oh, just shut it Potter. All this time, a year and a half, and it was just a lie," Neville growled angrily, drawing stares from a small group of students at another table. "You just pretended to be my friend to get close to him again, just like she said. Stay away from me from now on Potter, I'm not your friend anymore, you certainly were never mine."

Harry sat there with a gob-smacked expression as Neville packed and left. 'Where did that come from?' he wondered as he slumped in his chair. Noticing that the library had become anything but 'quiet,' Harry grimace at what he heard. From nearby tables he could catch bits whispered conversations that included both his and Neville's names.

A steady anger built in Harry as he got up to leave. He'd wanted Neville to know what was going on, hoping that perhaps the friend he'd had last year would return. Instead he'd gotten slapped in the face for it. He was so angry that for the first time in weeks his magic manifested itself through his eyes. Harry had no love for the Slytherin Quidditch team but he vowed right then to be in the stands with Draco rooting for a crushing victory over Gryffindor.

xXx

Draco glared steadily at Harry all through breakfast the next morning. While he'd had nothing but sympathy for his friend after he explained the confrontation in the library, it was Harry's expression of his anger that had Draco fuming.

In training that morning, Harry had channelled his frustration into their sparring. Blows that should have been feather light rocked the blond back on his heels. Things had ended badly in the Room of Requirement when Harry knocked the blond off his feet with barely an apology at the time. Harry's actions earned a stern lecture from Ric and he did apologise after he thought about it, though Draco had yet to completely forgive him.

They'd both finished eating and were headed out of the Great Hall when a breathless Blaise caught up with them.

"Harry," he gasped. "There you are! Flint has half of Slytherin out looking for you."

"Flint?" Harry asked. "What does he want me for?"

"It's Thorne, he got caught hexing some first years and got suspended from Quidditch for a month!"

"What about Thompson?" Draco asked. "He's backup seeker."

"Thompson couldn't find the Snitch if it was glued to his arse with a sticking charm," Blaise crowed gleefully. "Flint said that that to his face... come to think of it, I don't think he took it too well."

"Still, why come to us?" Harry asked patiently. "Draco and I both said we'd never fly for Slytherin."

"Please Harry," Blaise begged as he pulled them toward the dungeons. "We can't forfeit to Gryffindor, Flint said he'll do anything!"

Harry opened his mouth to repeat his refusal but was stopped by Draco's hand on his shoulder. A flurry of whispers was exchanged before Harry, still looking less than convinced, nodded to Blaise. "Let's go see Flint."

Down in the Slytherin common room, Harry wasted no time dancing around the subject. As soon as he sensed the Slytherin captain, he made his demands. "I'll play for you but only if you agree to a few conditions."

"Conditions," Flint snarled. "You should be honoured to fly for the best Quidditch team at Hogwarts."

"And you should shut your gob if you want harry playing today," Draco said in his 'Lucius' voice.

"As I said," Harry repeated, "conditions. First, harassment of the muggleborn kids by your house stops now."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Flint asked angrily.

"You're a sixth year Slytherin prefect," Draco answered disdainfully, do what you do best... INTIMIDATE"

"Is that it?" Flint grated.

"Hardly," Harry answered matter of factly. "I also want you to keep Thorne and his goons away from Dudley."

"Fine," Flint growled. "Now let's get up to the pitch..."

An elbow in Harry's ribs had him calling after the captain. "One more thing!"

Turning around with a barely restrained growl, Flint asked, "Now what?"

"Slytherin will redo the team try-outs next week for all the positions – and you'll ask Professor Snape to conduct it."

"No!" Flint yelled at the top of his lungs. "We don't need you that badly. I hate to lose to Gryffindor but you can't make me throw away my entire team over one match!"

"Every match."

"What?" asked the Slytherin captain as he turned to Draco.

"You'll lose every match," sneered the blond. "Harry and I have already agreed that if you don't do as we ask, we'll volunteer to play for the opposing team in every match you play."

"You wouldn't dare." Flint said darkly.

"We can," Harry said, matching Draco's sneer, "and we will."

"Not if you're in the hospital wing all the time," the Slytherin captain growled menacingly. "Hogwarts can be a dangerous place, all kinds of accidents can happen."

Flint was about to stalk yet closer to the second year Merlins when he was distracted by a sizzling sound at his feet. Looking down, he saw a frothy liquid eating its way through solid stone. Looking back up, Flint jumped back with a yelp as he stared into the fathomless black eyes of Harry's Coatl.

"So what do you think," Harry asked casually. "Do we have a deal?"

xXx

The Hogwarts Quidditch pitch was packed for the first match of the year. Students from every house had turned out for what promised to be a great show. Not only was it the first game but it was Gryffindor _vs_ Slytherin.

The rivalry between the two houses was legendary and rumoured to go back to the founders time. Every encounter between the houses above the pitch ended in mayhem and this time promised to be no different. The crowd, full of excitement, roared as the first players took the field.

Terry Boot, the 2nd year Ravenclaw announcing the match, called out players names and positions as they did their warm up laps. The stands went wild as the Weasley twins, a crowd favourite, entered. Neville, who'd only shown mediocre skill and had yet to prove himself in a real game, got little more than polite applause.

"And now," cried Terry through the magical megaphone, "Out of their hole, comes the Slytherins!"

"Boot!" McGonagall admonished the Ravenclaw, but not that loudly.

Seven green clad players soared onto the pitch in arrowhead formation. Six rode Nimbus 2001's, a gift from Lucius Malfoy to the team in spite of Draco's refusal to play for them. The seventh player rode a broom that looked older than the school itself. The twigs were split and a bit thin in spots and the handle was badly worn, yet it kept pace with the newer brooms and seemed even more maneuverable. Everyone strained their eyes, trying to identify the last player but it was Terry who announced it to the crowd.

"Wait," he cried. "It looks like there's a last minute substitution on the Slytherin team. Flying for Damien Thorne in the position of seeker is... Harry Potter!"

Flying onto the pitch with the Slytherins, Harry couldn't fight down a wild grin as the roar of the crowd washed over him. His senses stretched in every direction and with so much going on, Harry felt more alive than ever before. It was all he could do not to push his little broom to its limits just to feel the thrill of acceleration. He'd promised to fly with the Slytherin team though and he did just that, taking his proper place in the formation.

After their warm up lap, the Slytherin players took their positions, waiting for Madam Hooch to signal the start of play. Harry and Neville circled each other over the centre of the pitch as Hogwart's flying instructor took the tiny Golden Snitch from its resting place and tossed it into the air. Harry was able to keep track of it for only a few seconds before it was lost in thee noise and background magic present on the pitch. Next, Madam Hooch released the Quaffle, signalling the start of play.

Harry and Neville shot skyward to begin searching for the Snitch even as the last two game balls were released. Freed from the box, the heavy iron Bludgers clanked against each other once before separating for play. One whipped randomly about the field as if its only purpose was to cause mayhem, the other travelled as if it had a particular prey in mind.

Harry's attention was split as the game got under way. Part of him was searching for the Golden Snitch while another part was keeping watch on Neville. The Gryffindor seeker's anger had only grown since their confrontation in the library. Though he'd half expected Neville to react badly to his participation in the match, Harry was shocked to feel near hatred from the other boy. It was this preoccupation that nearly got Harry knocked from his broom. A Bludger shot by his head, coming so close that it ruffled his hair.

"What's the matter Potter," Neville cried derisively, even as he fought for control of his own broom. "Have you forgotten how to fly? Maybe a real Quidditch game is just too much for you."

Putting Neville completely out of his head, Harry tracked the Bludger with his senses as it performed a tight turn and set itself up for another pass. Not waiting for the maniacal missile to connect, Harry went into a steep dive to avoid it. Thinking the other boy had spotted the Snitch, Neville Followed Harry and shadowed his descent the best he could while searching vainly for the tiny ball.

Hurtling toward the pitch, Harry angled for Meyers, one of the Slytherin beaters. Passing Michael at breakneck speed, Harry smiled to himself as he heard a bat connecting with the ball. The danger passed for the moment, He resumed his search for the Snitch, only to throw himself into a barrel roll, trying to avoid the same Bludger yet again.

While Harry was dealing with his own problems, the Slytherin team was out doing themselves on the field. The new try-outs next week made all their positions precarious and as it would be Professor Snape that ran it, each of the players were doing their level best to impress him during the game. Three minutes in and Slytherin had already scored twice. Oliver Wood Gryffindor's captain and keeper, was nearly unseated from his broom when Jason, a Slytherin chaser, had knocked him into one of the goal posts. None of this registered with Harry as he continued to elude the rogue Bludger.

Cursing under his breath, Harry began dodging about the pitch as he tried to lose his attacker. All the while, he focused his sensed, much as he could spare, trying to figure out what was wrong with it. Rounding the Gryffindor goals, he got a chance to better examine the charmed ball when Fred Weasley, of all; people, knocked it away.

"Having trouble Harry?" the redhead asked lightly. There was an undertone of concern in his voice, however, making it clear he had no part in the actions of the runaway Bludger.

"No more than usual," Harry called back, silently grumbling to himself that it wasn't an exaggeration.

Concentrating on the Bludger, Harry noticed that the pattern of sparks making up its magic was different than usual. A string of sparks was also connecting it to him, though he didn't recognise the spell. The 'flavour' of the magic was somehow familiar to him, though he couldn't place it right off. Unable to think of a way to stop it, Harry was about to call for a time out when he heard the Snitch.

Its high pitched whir came to him from near the Slytherin goals, clear across the pitch. A surge of excitement from Neville told Harry that the Gryffindor seeker had seen it as well. Both boys lay flat on their brooms, racing toward their target. Neville, being a bit closer, started out in the lead but quickly lost ground to Harry and his unique broom.

As if sensing the boys after it, the golden ball jigged to the right at the last moment, causing both boys to fly past. Wasting no time, shot away and went under the stands, dodging between the support posts, forcing Harry and Neville to follow or lose it. For Harry it was one of the most exhilarating flights of his life. The timbers, while magical, were just barely so. Being such they were hard to sense and made flying among them a real challenge. Neville just tried his best to keep up with Harry and had scraped painfully against more than one post already. Seeming to tire of the maze, the Snitch soared back out onto the pitch and shot away. Harry, close in its wake, accelerated as well, Neville, looking miserable, just flew best he could after them.

The Snitch dodged a bit to the left and right as the chase neared its end but neither boy would be distracted. With a final surge of speed, Harry reached for the golden ball but nearly fell off his broom when the Bludger finally found its target. It crashed into his arm just below his shoulder, cleanly breaking the bone before bouncing off his ribs. Barely able to stay on his broom with the right side of his body gone numb, Harry threw himself into the air and caught the Snitch just as the Bludger hit him one last time. This time in the back, sending him tumbling to the ground in a heap.

The first thing Harry became aware of was how hard it was to breathe. Pain followed shortly, shooting down his right side and his back. None of it held his attention like the fluttering sensation in his left hand.

"We won," Harry mumbled groggily, even as he coughed up something warm and sticky. 'That can't be good,' he thought.

By now he was surrounded by a crowd of people, mostly his team mates and students that had been watching from the sidelines. Harry was about to drift back into unconsciousness when an approaching voice forced him alert again.

"One side," Professor Lockhart called as he made his way through the crowd. "One side please. My dear Harry," he said dramatically as he knelt by the stricken boy. "You're injured, let me help."

"No," Harry grunted. "I'm fine – really. Just give me a couple minutes rest." Truthfully, Harry was pretty sure his injuries needed immediate help, it just seemed that it was the last thing that Lockhart was capable of providing.

"Nonsense," the defence teacher scoffed as he brandished his wand. "I'll have you good as new in a moment..."

Lockhart twirled his wand in an odd fashion and Harry sensed a wave of magic move toward him that seemed – wrong. "No!" he cried as his own magic clashed with Lockhart's. There was a blinding flash of light and the professor was thrown a dozen feet away.

Harry lay back feeling the pains in his body increase as his magic, which had been busy dealing with it, had been severely drained blocking Lockhart's spell.

"Oi!" one of the Weasley twins called from nearby. "We need to get the professor to the hospital wing too – all his bones are gone."

Harry was suddenly cast in shadow as a lean, dark form appeared above him. A growled '_mobilicorpus_' had him lifted into the air while another voice cast a spell that numbed his aching body. Floating toward the castle as unconsciousness loomed, his last thought was of Madam Pomfrey. "She's going to be _so _angry with me."

xXx

'Waking up in the hospital wing was beginning to become something of a tradition,' Harry thought to himself as he returned to wakefulness. The sound of an argument, the reason he'd woke, caught his attention and he turned his head to listen as the school's medi-witch scolded some poor soul who'd entered her domain without permission.

"Enough," she said gruffly. "Neither of my patients are up for visitors yet. Professor Lockhart has just started his Skele-Grow treatment and won't have a working jawbone until tomorrow. Mr Potter is suffering from magical exhaustion and is also recovering from several broken bones and a punctured lung."

"Really now Poppy," the headmaster's voice answered. "The health and well-being of both students and staff is my responsibility as well. While Gilderoy's recovery is well in hand, I need to speak with him or Mr Potter to determine exactly what happened. The boy's aunt is being escorted here by Severus and I was hoping to have something to tell her."

Harry groaned at the thought of how worried Aunt Petunia must be and immediately regretted it. The headmaster, obviously hearing the sound strode across the room. "Congradulations Harry," Dumbledore said softly as he arrived at the bedside. "I understand that you performed masterfully, flying today. Minnerva says that she hasn't seen the like since your father, or perhaps Charlie Weasley."

"Well, it wasn't entirely my doing," Harry conceded. "I wouldn't have tried half those stunts if that crazy Bludger hadn't been after me. Does anyone know who jinxed it yet?"

"Jinxed..." Dumbledore repeated in a perplexed tone. "I'm sorry but I'm not entirely sure what you're talking about. From what I've heard, you flew well but was hit by a Bludger right before you caught the Snitch. These kind of accidents are exactly why I was, and still am, reluctant to allow you to play in such a violent sport."

"It wasn't an accident," Harry protested hotly. "That Bludger spent the entire game trying to hit me, not because of the Gryffindor beaters, it was after me. It ignored every other player on the pitch and more than once it turned completely around on its own after missing to have another go."

"He has the right of it Albus," Poppy said from the foot of the bed, surprising them both. They'd been so involved, arguing about the Bludger that they'd missed her approach. "I don't usually watch the games," she said. "Seeing the players coming in with their injuries is usually more than enough Quidditch for me." Harry blushed slightly and squirmed under the sheet as he voice softened. "When I found out that Harry might play today, I couldn't help myself. Everything I've ever witnessed the boy do has been a testament to his abilities and drive. I was watching when he dodged that Bludger and he did it better than anyone I've seen in years. Harry's right though, it followed him around like it was tethered to his broom. After it hit him the second time, one of the Weasley twins had to tackle it to the ground."

"Do you know if anyone got to check it out?" Harry asked.

"Honestly, no," she replied. "Everyone was more worried about getting you here, so much, in fact, that they nearly forgot poor Professor Lockhart."

Harry bit back a laugh at Poppy's words. The thought of the professor left out on the pitch as a puddle was too funny to ignore. His amusement was short, however, as Professor Dumbledore was reminded of another concern.

"About Professor Lockhart," the headmaster asked as Harry felt the now familiar pressure starting up behind his eyes. "You wouldn't remember what happened when he tried to heal you?"

Harry could feel Professor Dumbledore's Legimency probing at the edges of his mind. The Occlumency shields he'd been learning were far too weak, as of yet, to be any help. Severus knew this and had given Harry an option to use if someone was attempting what the headmaster was now. Reaching back into his memories, Harry grabbed the final moments with Uncle Vernon and forced himself to relive them. The remembered pain along with the guilt that Severus had assured him Professor Dumbledore felt over his placement with the Dursleys should drive him out. A short gasp came from the headmaster even as the pressure Harry had been feeling eased.

"I'm sorry sir," he said. "I can remember getting hit then being on the ground; anything more is pretty muddled."

"Of course my boy," the headmaster said in a somewhat strained voice. It was clear that he didn't completely believe Harry, but not being able to use his Legimency made it nearly impossible for Professor Dumbledore to know for sure. "I'll let you get some rest before your aunt arrives."

Opening his inner eye for the first time since waking, Harry kept track of Professor Dumbledore as he walked toward the hospital wing doors. The headmaster's Occlumency shields were a mess; emotions such as sorrow, anger, shame and uncertainty flowed freely in his aura. Twice on his way out, the old wizard had turned as if to say something or just look on the boy again but eventually he left.

Harry lay back while Poppy fussed over him. He hadn't noticed when the headmaster was there, but he was still exhausted. Now, even with the medi-witch bustling around him, Harry couldn't help but fall asleep. His rest was short lived though; he started awake when the hospital wing doors were slammed open.

Harry survived Aunt Petunia's smothering, though at times he wasn't sure how. Between the crushing hugs, the scolding and the probing questions, he was beginning to wonder if he wouldn't get more rest alone in a room with the mad Bludger. Finally, after another full recount of his day that was interrupted when Poppy and Severus half heartedly restrained Petunia from attacking a whimpering and helpless Professor Lockhart, the medi-witch shooed the adults out and ordered a grateful Harry back to sleep.

It was past midnight when something woke him. A damp cloth was being dabbed lightly on his forehead. Neither the person's breathing nor touch in any way resembled Madam Pomfrey, so Harry was suitably alarmed. Struggling upright, Harry opened his senses and demanded, "Who's there?"

The aura before him was immediately recognisable as the elf who'd appeared at Privet Drive over the summer. "Dobby," Harry said quietly. "What are you doing here?"

Anxiety, fear and sorrow mingled together in the house elf's aura as it stood sniffling before Harry. In a heart broken whisper, it said, "Harry Potter came back to Hogwarts, even after Dobby warned and warned him. Now Hogwarts is a dangerous place. Why, oh why didn't Harry potter go back home when he missed the train?"

"What... So it was you that sealed off the barrier," Harry said as he leaned back into his pillows. "You know that what you did nearly got a couple of other students expelled, not to mention, nearly killed. As for going back home, I did. Apparently you just didn't realise that my family and I had moved to Hogsmeade over the summer. From there Draco and I just strolled up to the school.

"Master Draco was with you?" Dobby squeaked sickly. "The little master wasn't hurt was he?

"You know Draco," Harry sucked in a breath as realization struck. "You serve his family."

With a wail, the house elf fell off the bed an began beating its head against the floor. "Dobby has betrayed his family," he cried. "For this he must be punished most severely!"

"Stop," Harry yelped. "Dobby, Draco's known about you since before term started." A smile crossed his face and he added, "If he knew it was you that sealed the barrier at Kings Cross, you'd probably get a reward."

"But Harry Potter sir," the elf whimpered. "You shouldn't be here. Dobby warned and warned you but still you came. He thought that enough and was shocked when you came anyway but he thought, surely, that his Bludger would have – "

"Wait," Harry said, sitting back up. "Your Bludger? You tried to kill me?"

"Oh no sir," Dobby cried, horrified. "Not to kill, never to kill. Dobby only wanted Harry Potter to be injured enough that he'd go home."

"Why," Harry asked angrily. "What's so terrible at Hogwarts that it's better sending me home in pieces."

"Harry Potter must understand how important he is to us, the enslaved! Those of us that are made to serve wizarding kind were treated horribly when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his power. House Elves, Goblins, others that served were tortured and killed for amusement!

"It all changed when the Dark Lord was defeated by you as a babe. While Dobby is still treated this way, for most things have gotten better. Harry Potter is a beacon of hope that things will get better some day and for that we owe him a great debt. Now at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen or have started to already. Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here when history is about to repeat itself, when the Chamber of Secrets has been opened again..."

Dobby blinked in horror at what he'd said before grabbing the water pitcher from the bedside table and smashing it over his head. The house elf crashed to the floor, only to climb back on the bed, muttering, "Bad Dobby, Very bad Dobby."

"Wait," Harry said quickly. "Don't punish yourself for that. I know that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened, the whole school does. It's written on the corridor walls. I can even guess that Draco's father has his hand in all this but what I don't know is who the Heir of Slytherin is. Who opened the chamber fifty years ago and who's doing it now... do you know Dobby?

Miserably, the house elf nodded its head. "Dobby knows but he is forbidden to say."

"I understand your loyalty to Mr Malfoy," Harry assured the elf. "This is important though, it's only a matter of time before – "

Harry and Dobby both cocked their heads to one side at the same time, listening. As one, they turned to face the infirmary doors as the faint sounds of scraping feet and hushed voices approached.

"Dobby must leave now," the house elf squeaked, then disappeared with a loud pop. Harry lay back and pulled the covers to his chin, feigning sleep. Moments later, the doors opened, admitting an odd procession.

Harry recognised Professor Dumbledore's sparks, and by the shuffling of the old wizard's feet, he guessed that the headmaster was backing into the room. Several feet beyond him was Professor McGonagall, her aura was an uproar of agitation and fear. Between them they carried something that Harry would have taken for Mrs Norris in her current state, save for its size. Harry could only assume one of the students or another staff member had been petrified. Gently, they lay the form on a nearby bed.

"Get Madam Pomfrey," the headmaster whispered to McGonagall, who hurried past Harry's bed and around a corner.

Casting his sense back toward the figure on the bed, Harry tried to guess who it was. Without the moving pattern of sparks, however, he just couldn't tell.

Shortly, Madam Pomfrey arrived and approached the table. With an outward calm, though her own aura gave away her dismay, she asked, "What's happened?"

"Another attack," replied Dumbledore in a voice that reflected his years. "It was a student this time. Minnerva found her in the bathroom of the girls dorm."

"Petrified?" Pomfrey asked in a hushed whisper.

"Yes," McGonagall replied with a shaky voice. "But if I hadn't been doing bed check just then, who knows..."

Madam Pomfrey performed several diagnostic spells before enclosing the bed with curtains. "There's nothing more to be done for her tonight," she said. "I'll set up a private room for her in the morning, she should be fine here till then."

the adults left and Harry waited a good five minutes before moving. In all reality, he knew the victims identity was none of his business. The headmaster had things well in hand and the girl, whoever she was, would be fine soon as the mandrake roots were harvested. Harry couldn't help but feel connected and somehow responsible in a way for the girl's condition. Being such, he felt honour bound to know who she was.

Hissing with discomfort as his feet hit the cold stone floor, Harry wished he'd bothered to learn a proper warming charm. Quietly, he shuffled across the intervening space and slipped past the curtains and stopped at the bedside.

Even up close, Harry's inner eye was proving useless. The frozen pattern of sparks in no way resembled a living person's aura. That avenue out, he used the more conventional, muggle, method of identifying the person. Reaching out, he touched the pillow and let his hand follow it to her head. Harry sucked in a breath when he came in contact with the girls hair and felt its texture. He quickly brought his hand to her face, confirming, with a heavy heart, his growing suspicion.

Trembling fingers followed her brow, then trailed down her jawline and over her lips. Harry stood frozen for an eternity with his heart in his stomach. He knew that he should be used to loss, his parents, his sight; now the knowledge that one of his friends could lie so cold and still like this... "Don't worry," he said, holding back the tears that threatened to come. "We'll catch the heir, I promise. The mandrake roots will be ready before school lets out and we'll have you back Hermione."

* * *

Thanks for all the Great reviews, I have to apologise for taking part of the scene from the COS movie but I love the part of the Quidditch match where Harry and Draco fly under the stands. 

Let me know how you like this chapter, it flowed a lot better for me this time than last.


	11. The Duelling Club

Alright kids, here is Chapter eleven. It's a bit longer than usual though it's un-beta'd. I had a volunteer but she never emailed me back.

My apologies about Hagrid's accent, I just can't do it right... oh yeah... R&R!

Disclaimer: HP is JKR's not mine

Chapter Eleven: The Duelling Club.

The next morning, Harry was pushing breakfast around on his plate when Draco burst in brimming with energy. "Get up," the blond said happily as he threw himself onto a chair by the bed. "The party in the Slytherin common room is still going on and I want to find Hermione before I take you. I want her to see how a _real_ house celebrates."

"Draco,"

"You should see Thorne," the blond continued, oblivious to the miserable look on Harry's face. "He's been having fits ever since he heard about the deal and you winning the match."

"Draco, please..."

"I wonder where Granger is, anyway. I thought for sure she'd be camped outside the hospital wing doors, waiting to come in and tell you why Quidditch is too 'dangerous'. Ten to one she's in the library, researching spiders or something – "

"Draco!"

Startled by Harry's shout, Draco stopped and really saw Harry for the first time. "What's wrong with you?" he asked with a worried look. "You look like somebody stole your broom."

"There was another attack last night," Harry rasped. "It was a student this time."

"Really," the blond said uneasily. "You were awake when they were brought in?"

Nodding weakly, Harry answered, "Professor McGonagall found her."

"H – who... who was it?"

"She found her in the lavatory of the girls dorm – she'll be alright though... Just like Mrs Norris. When the Mandrakes mature they'll set her right."

Draco, however, wasn't listening to Harry any longer. He looked around the infirmary wildly until he spotted the curtained off bed in the corner. Ignoring Harry's protests and pleas to stop, the blond stumbled across the room and grabbed hold of the curtains tightly, as if he needed them for support. Harry, following after on still shaky legs, stopped just short of his friend as he passed through the drapery.

Sucking in a strangled breath, Draco shuffled to Hermione's side. Mirroring Harry's gesture the night before, he reached out to touch her face, flinching much the way his friend had at her apparent lifelessness. They both stood there like that for several minutes with Draco's aura becoming ever more chaotic with each passing second.

Reaching out a tentative hand, Harry placed it on Draco's shoulder, "We will put her right," he said, trying to sound confident. "We'll find out who did this and stop them."

Draco's breathing rasped loudly in Harry's ears and he trembled noticeably under his touch. "I'll find out who did this," the blond croaked in a voice that wavered with barely contained emotion. "I'll find them and I'll kill them."

"Draco – no..."

"I have to go." Wiping his eyes furiously, Draco bolted from the room, leaving a shocked Harry gaping after him. He'd expected Draco to take Hermione's condition hard, Harry himself had felt like a hole had been ripped in him the previous night but Draco was absolutely murderous. Dressing franticly, Harry rushed toward the Hospital Wing doors to go after his friend but was caught up short by the unexpected return of Madam Pomfrey.

Harry spent the next half hour being poked, prodded and tested by the medi-witch as she went about checking on his recovery. Though he was chafing under her restraint, Harry knew better than to say anything that might irk and give her an excuse to keep him for more observation. Finally, the last test complete, Madam Pomfrey declared him well enough to be released and sent him on his way.

Once out of the hospital wing, Harry moved quickly as possible without breaking into a run as he searched for his friend. Draco was in the castle somewhere and Harry was determined to find him. No matter where he searched, however, He couldn't find him.

Draco wasn't in the room of requirement, or atop the astronomy tower where they often hid from the professors and other students alike. Harry tried the Great hall and even braved the party still going on in the Slytherin Common room, much to his regret.

Harry knew he'd made a mistake the moment he entered. Cries of "Potter"and cheering filled the room while several hands pulled him deeper into the celebration before he could even think of attempting a retreat. He could tell Draco wasn't here but maybe there was somebody that had seen him recently.

"Harry," Called Blaise over the music. "It's brilliant you came! That was a great game you played yesterday!"

Grimacing at the noise level and plugging his ears with his fingers, Harry yelled back, "It's seven-thirty in the morning, how long has this been going on?"

"Since we crushed Gryffindor yesterday afternoon," the Slytherin shouted in answer. "Winning the house cup or doing anything that makes the Gryffs look bad merits a party that lasts until the night before classes start back up. Beauty is, we're underground so we can be as loud as we want... bonus of living in the dungeons, yeah?"

"Have you seen Draco?" Harry asked loudly, trying to make himself heard.

"What?"

"Have you seen Draco?" Harry nearly screamed. He never got a chance to hear Blaise's answer because a pair of hands grabbed his shoulders and spun him around.

"Potter," yelled Flint. "Great job out there! Maybe we'll see you at try-outs next week!"

Tired of trying to make himself herd, Harry just shrugged helplessly and turned back to where he'd left Blaise, only to find the other boy gone. He spent another twenty minutes searching futilely through the crowd before escaping into the relative quiet of the Dungeon corridor. Leaning back against the cool stone, Harry rubbed his temples, trying to will away the headache that had developed from all the noise and wondered if the ringing would ever stop. In the meantime, he knew, he still had to find Draco.

Going to Severus, he knew, wouldn't be and option for either of them at the moment. It being a Sunday, the Potions Master was down in Hogsmeade, entertaining Petunia and Dudley. It had become a regular activity, once Dudley had settled in, for Severus to escort him home on weekends. This weekend's visit had nearly been cut short the day before, when Harry had gone to the Hospital wing. Somehow, however, he'd convinced both Professor Snape and Aunt Petunia, with Poppy's help, that he was fine and constant watching-over would only make him nervous. He'd gotten them to take Duds back home and try enjoying the rest of their weekend, though at this point, he wished that the professor would have stayed. With the potions master gone, both his quarters and lab would be out of bounds and inaccessible to anyone.

Out of places to look, Harry started up toward the entrance hall to check the grounds when Loki darted into the stairway and flew around him, squawking excitedly. At first Harry wasn't sure what the mini-dragon wanted. After it flew repeatedly up the stairs and back to him, however, it became apparent that he was supposed to follow.

Up what seemed like a dozen flights of steps, he ran after his familiar. They sped through the nearly deserted halls with only the echoes of Harry's footsteps accompanying them. His pace slowed as they approached what he assumed must be their destination. Harry cursed quietly at himself for not thinking of this before; he'd checked everywhere that Draco normally spent a lot of time but had never thought too look for him in Hermione's favourite haunts.

Draco sat hunched on Hermione's favourite chair, his misery wrapped about him like a cloak. A familiar hiss told Harry that Hedwig draped protectively around the other boy's shoulders, both to comfort him and to warn others away. Sitting down quietly beside him, Harry never offered a word, nor did Draco ask, they just sat together missing Hermione.

The days seemed to pass more slowly now that they were waiting for the Mandrakes to mature. Though with everything going on, their days should have been flying by. The Merlin study group had seen a modest increase in its numbers, mostly due to the continued incompetence of Professor Lockhart in class. Draco had taken over Hermione's investigation, though his skill with questioning Myrtle still had room for improvement. On more than one occasion, he could be seen stomping back to the dungeons, his clothes a sodden mess.

What did eat away at their time the most though, was Quidditch practice. Cedric, on the heels of Slytherin's crushing defeat of Gryffindor, was pushing the Hufflepuff team relentlessly to prepare for their upcoming match with Ravenclaw. While their houses didn't share the same rivalry as the other two, Diggory was hoping to begin with as strong a showing . His dedication resulted in Harry and Draco spending far more time practising on the pitch than studying in the common room. While they both loved Quidditch and it did help distract their attention from Hermione's current state, the long hours and Cedric's _Need_ to win wasn't helping their moods.

"One more time," the Hufflepuff captain called from high above the field. "Styles and Marsters, you both need to keep those Bludgers away from the Chasers... There are **_three_** hoops Hodge. If you're going to concentrate on only one of them, at least pick the middle so the other team might think that you're covering all three... Potter, Malfoy and Cadwallader, your stunt flying is very pretty but stick to scoring goals. I want to be sure Hufflepuff wins whether we get the Snitch or not. Come on guys, we've only got a few days before our first match with Ravenclaw – lets pull this together!"

"Bloody wanker," Draco grumbled as they set up for another scrimmage. "I can't believe him; '_lets pull this together,_'... My arse," he quoted Cedric with a snort. "We should have tried out for the Slytherin team like I said."

"We already committed to Hufflepuff," Harry reminded his friend. "Besides, Flint's worse than this and you've seen how that Gryffindor captain acts."

"Wood!" yelped Draco, barking out laugh. "He's something, isn't he? I heard that he had his team up in the middle of the night, running around the pitch in the dark." Draco's laughter earned a glare from Cedric but the blond either didn't or refused to notice the warning. "You should have seen his face after you caught the snitch for Slytherin, I thought he was going to have a stroke! He was screaming at Longbottom even after they carted you and Lockhart off to the Hospital Wing."

"He takes Quidditch to seriously," Harry commented as Cedric put the Quaffle into play.

"And you don't?"

Ignoring his friend's question, Harry dove to intercept the ball. "Thread the needle?" he called back.

A maniacal grin spread over the blond's face as he shot forward.

xXx

The Merlin common room was full of commotion when Harry and Draco returned from visiting Hermione. They'd taken it upon themselves to stop by the Hospital wing together every evening after the dinner meal and tell her about their day. They knew that she couldn't hear them but it felt... right. Noting a group of people gathered around the notice board, they went to take a look.

"What's going on?" Harry asked the nearest student.

"They're starting a duelling club," answered Colin Creevey, the Gryffindor shutterbug.

"A duelling club," Draco repeated speculatively. "That might be something worth looking into."

Nodding absently, Harry asked, "Where are they holding it?"

"the flier says tomorrow at six in the Great Hall," the blond commented as he craned his neck for a better look. "Want me to put your name down?"

xXx

In the Great Hall the next evening, a crowd of students gathered around a narrow stage that had been set up in the centre of the room. The house tables had been removed, leaving a large area open for the students to practise.

"Who do you think is running the club?" Harry heard Ron Weasley ask.

"I hope it's either Professor Flitwick or Professor Snape."

"Snape," Ron spat. "Why would you want that greasy git teaching us?"

"Because he's fought in the war against Voldemort," Harry answered patiently, ignoring the gasps around him for using the Dark Lord's name. He had to school himself not to be mad at Weasley's remarks, Severus' reputation for unfairness to the other houses, especially Gryffindor, was legendary. "He knows how to defend himself, and not just in a duel.

"Professor Flitwick," he continued, "was the British duelling champion for twenty-seven years before retiring to teach," he added. "He has the winningest record of any wizard in the last two hundred years." Any further speculation about who would be running the club was put to rest, alongside any hope that their time there would be well spent, when the doors to the Great Hall opened.

"Can everybody see me, does everyone hear me," asked Professor Lockhart as he strutted into the Hall followed by several reporters from the Daily Prophet. Seeing that he had the rapt attention of at least the female members of his audience, he continued, "good. As you all know," he said, as he flashed one of his best smiles for the photographer, "I am Gilderoy Lockhart, adventurer extraordinare, author, and three time winner of the _Witch Weekly_ best smile award. Currently I am filling the position of instructor for DADA and with Professor Dumbledore's permission, I've started this little duelling club to train you up in case the unforeseen should occur and you find yourselves needing to defend... er... yourselves... As I have done on countless occasions.

"To assist me, Professor Snape has been given the honour of helping to demonstrate my techniques – ah," he said. "Here comes our potions master now."

Like a storm cloud, Professor Snape's presence filled the room. Harry winced as he read Severus' aura and realized just how angry he was. Whatever the headmaster had promised or threatened Professor Snape with to get him here, it did nothing to improve the man's mood. What surprised Harry the most is how Lockhart could just stand there blathering on, completely oblivious to the predatory look directed his way.

"Professor Snape has graciously agreed to participate in a little demonstration to show you all what a proper duel would look like. Rest assured," Professor Lockhart added with a carefree wave of his hand. "We will be using disarming spells only; have no fear, you'll be getting your potions master back in one piece."

Apparently unnoticed by the two wizards, the Weasley twins began taking wagers on the upcoming duel. Most of the females bet for Lockhart, but the rest, even the Gryffindors were betting on Snape.

"look at them over there," said Draco with a sneer. "Betting on a wizards duel like it was some muggle sporting event; it's disgusting."

"I know what you mean," answered Harry blandly. "So how much do you have on you?"

"Two Galleons," the blond answered grumpily. "I wish I'd known about this ahead of time. You?"

"One Galleon, six Sickles," he said, handing the money to Draco. "All on Severus, right?"

"Of course," answered the blond as he went to place the bet. "Do you think I'm crazy?"

The two wizards stood, back to back then took ten paces in opposite directions before turning to face each other. They saluted, that is to say that Gilderoy went through a series of gyrations that only _he_ would consider elegant before ending in what could only be called a stage bow. Snape, on the other hand, gave the barest of nods, never letting his eyes leave their target.

"Right then," Professor Lockhart announced to the crowd – and the reporters. "As you can see, my esteemed opponent and I have taken our positions and saluted each other as equals."

Harry grimaced again at the sense of loathing that erupted from Severus' aura at Lockhart's words. Excited whispers broke out among the Slytherins, and the Weasley twins stopped taking bets, knowing that the duel was now good as over, only requiring the potion master's spell to make it official.

"Ready," Lockhart said, unaware of the sudden anticipation in the room. "One... Two... Three!"

It was humbling, Harry later decided, watching a true duellist at work. Between their studies in the commons and training in the Room of Requirement, he'd thought he was half way decent at it. Watching Professor Snape though, Harry realized he had a long way to go. Having been the one to do the count, Lockhart should have had the split-second advantage. All things being equal, he should have been the one to cast the first spell. All things were not equal however.

Lockhart had barely begun his wand motion when Snape made a sharp, economical movement and called out "Expelliarmus!" The spell was cast so quickly that Harry could barely follow the action. A wave of magic, that seemed to be a bit over powered for a practice duel, threw the DADA professor into the air, and relieving him of his wand and dignity at the same moment. Professor Lockhart ended up resting on his laurels a dozen feet from where he had been standing.

A cheer went up, primarily from the Slytherins and other male members of the group while the females squealed in horror. Katie bell, a Gryffindor who was standing not too far from Harry and Draco, cried out, "Do you think he's alright?"

"Who cares?" Harry, Draco and Ron Weasley shot back in unison just before the blond went to collect their winnings from the twins.

Professor Snape, ignoring the cheering students and the photographer who was gleefully snapping away, strode over to Professor Lockhart with a satisfied sneer on his face. Radiating an air of disdain, he dropped the wand at Lockhart's feet and spun about to return to centre stage.

Lockhart, after moaning senselessly for a few moments, staggered to his feet and tried to carry on as if nothing abnormal had happened. "Well, there you have it!" he said, clutching one of his admirers for support. "As you can see, that was a disarming charm – ah, thank you for my wand Ms Brown," he said to the Girl who'd retrieved it for him. "An excellent idea to show them that Professor Snape, though I must say that what you were doing was pretty obvious. If I'd wanted to stop you it would have been too easy. I – "

Lockhart's speech dried up under Severus' withering glare. The potions master looked to be on the verge of murder, though to Harry's senses, he felt only disgust toward the DADA professor. "Perhaps," Professor Snape said through gritted teeth as he less than diplomatically took charge of the club. "We should start with basics, such as shield charms to protect against unfriendly spells."

"Quite right," Lockhart replied as he regrettably found his voice again. "We'll pair everyone up and practice blocking. Professor Snape, if you wouldn't mind helping – "

Quickly the two professors broke the crowd into pairs while Harry pretended to cast the 'sound to sight' spell. Letting his eyes take on their familiar glow, he stayed close to Draco and made sure they were picked as partners. Casting his senses about, Harry noted that most of the people from their study group were paired together except Ron Weasley. Neville had the unhappy redhead by his sleeve and Lockhart paired them when he came by. Everyone else seemed to have paired up with other students from their own houses.

"Now everyone listen," Professor Lockhart said to the group. "You will all take turns trying to block a stinging hex with a shield charm, now on the count of three-"

Erm... Professor," said one of the third year students. "You never taught us a shield charm."

"Or the hex," called another.

A flash went off in a befuddled Lockhart's face as the reporters scribbled furiously on their pads, recording every word. His mouth opened and closed silently, doing a wonderful rendition of a fish out of water before salvation, of a sort, presented itself.

"Perhaps," suggested Professor Snape, his patience gone. "You should demonstrate the spell for them now. Then we could get on with this and not waste my entire evening."

Pulling his wand back out, Professor Lockhart jerkily went through a series of overly dramatic wand movements that only slightly resembled a proper 'Protego'. Harry and Draco, who'd studied the charm in their group and practised it in the Room of Requirement, hardly recognised it and tried not to snicker too loudly as the entire room tried to copy the professor's wand movements.

"Right then," Lockhart said after five unproductive minutes, trying to teach both the hex and charm. "We're ready to begin." While the professor was talking, Draco grabbed Harry's shirt and pulled him close to whisper something. His head jerked up to 'look' Draco in the eye, before turning his attention to the grouped Slytherins. Their pairings were awfully close together and the feeling coming from that direction bordered on malicious glee. Draco pulled his head close again and whispered a bit more. A half smile crossed Harry's face and he nodded to his friend before turning his attention back to the professors.

"Remember now," said Lockhart. "One partner casts a stinging hex while the other blocks. All together now, on three. One... Two... Three!"

Harry and Draco, instead of doing as Professor Lockhart asked, turned back to back and fell to a knee. Each cast a shield spell and watched the show as the entire room erupted in chaos. As anyone with half a mind would expect, hexes flew around the room randomly as nearly everybody began casting hexes at each other. Never having practised before, most made up for lack of accuracy with enthusiasm, firing off spell after spell, hoping to hit – something.

Adding to the pandemonium, the Slytherins had gathered together in a tight knot. The ones in the centre were firing at the surrounding students while the ones on the perimeter cast shields to protect the group. Not to be outdone, the Weasley twins were creating their own brand of havoc.

Students all around them were subjected to new hair styles, hair and skin colours, and wardrobe changes. Through all this Severus stood in the shadows behind a shield of his own, his face impassive. Harry could feel his amusement, however, as Lockhart's first meeting fell apart. Of the other professor there was no sign, at the first hint of trouble, he'd simply disappeared.

Tiring of the show, Professor Snape flicked his wand and a loud bang echoed through the hall. At the report, everyone froze, all except the ones that had the happy feet jinx cast on them. They were all hopping about the floor in some crazy dance or another.

Professor Snape moved through the hall, reversing curses as he went. He cast a venomous glare at the Weasley twins as he passed them, which was returned with innocent, doe-eyed expressions. When things were nearly back to normal, Professor Lockhart reappeared suddenly next to the duelling stage; under which, only Harry knew for sure, that he'd been hiding.

"Perhaps we've been moving a bit too quickly," the flustered professor stammered as he avoided Snape's piercing gaze. Let's have a volunteer pair – Weasley and Thorne, how about you two?"

Damien strutted up to the stage as if he owned it while Ron, a bit more wary, climbed up opposite him. Both boys had fared well in the previous skirmish. Ron, having put a lot of effort into the study group, had his shield up before Neville (or anybody else) could raise his wand. Thorne had also been largely untouched, though he'd been in the middle of the Slytherin pack. Now they stood on the duelling platform waiting for Lockhart's instructions, Thorne with a sneer and Ron with a frown.

"He'll take the Weasel on the first pass," Draco whispered to Harry as Professor Lockhart explained, after some prompting from Snape, the guidelines for duelling.

"If he does, it's only because Ron still thinks you have to fight fair in a duel," Harry murmured back. "He can't help it, it's a Gryffindor thing."

"Well, Thorne's got a Slytherin thing and I'll bet you a Galleon that he goes before three."

"That's a sucker bet," Harry grumbled.

Up on the stage, Ron and Damien stood with wands in guard position as they waited for Lockhart to start the match.

"Ready then?" the professor asked as he stood with handkerchief raised at Centre stage. "One... Two – "

True to Draco's prediction, Thorne attacked before the third count. His target wasn't Ron, however, but Professor Lockhart.

"Tarantallegra!"

The DADA teacher began dancing a strange jig, distracting Ron just long enough for Thorne to cast a second spell. "Expelliarmus!" Hit unexpectedly, Ron was tossed head over heals and off the stage. The redhead landed at Harry's feet and after a quick check to make sure nothing more than the boy's pride was hurt, Harry helped him to his feet and turned his attention back to the stage.

The Slytherin stood at the far end, twirling Ron's wand between his fingers as he watched Professor Lockhart dancing about, vainly trying to cancel the simple hex. Harry couldn't see Thorne's face but he could feel the vicious joy that radiated from him as he gloated over Weasley's defeat. "Is that it?" he asked derisively as Snape reluctantly cast the counter curse on Lockhart. "This is the best that the Lions have to offer? No wonder you lost against a cripple at Quidditch. You're more pitiful than he is."

Draco made no move to stop Harry as he jumped onto the stage, neither did Professor Snape. Thorne had gone too far with his insults and if Harry had anything to do with it, he would face the consequences. The twins, seeing a new duel in the making, began a new round of wagers that nearly turned into a riot. Betting was even between the two opponents except in Slytherin. Strangely, many of them favoured Harry over Damien.

When the Ravenclaw first jumped on the stage, Damien laughed incredulously, put his hands on hips and asked, "What's this then? You're all such cowards that you sacrifice your weakest as a distraction? There's hope for you after all."

"No," Harry answered casually. "They just figured I was all that's necessary to beat the likes of you."

"Big words Potter," Damien spat. "We both know that the professors will never let you duel, you haven't sat through even one session of DADA this year."

"From what I've heard, that gives me the advantage," Harry answered with a serene smile. "Anyway, I read all about it, how hard could it be, anyway, They did let Professor Lockhart teach it after all," eliciting a round of giggles from many of the students.

"I have no objection," declared Professor Snape from the shadows. "Neither does Professor Lockhart," he added with a warning glare at the other wizard. "Standard rules for a practise duel, no illegal or dangerous curses, no attacks while your opponent is down and a time limit of five minutes. First to incapacitate their opponent wins."

"Ready then?" Professor Lockhart asked yet again, this time standing well away from the platform. Damien nodded, taking up what would look like a fencing stance if he'd been holding a sword. Harry nodded as well though with a radically different starting position. His feet were spread shoulder width apart with much of his weight resting on the balls of his feet. His knees were slightly bent and his arms hung loosely at his sides. In a word, Harry looked completely relaxed. With both duellers indicating readiness, Professor Lockhart prepared to begin the match.

"On the count of three then, One-"

True to form, Damien barely waited for the first count before he struck. "Finite Incantatum!" he roared as he stepped to one side. His opening shot was smart, if expected. Get rid of Harry's 'sight' spell to gain advantage. Unfortunately for Damien's plans, however, Harry wasn't interested in cooperating.

Even as Damien was casting the spell, Harry was in motion. Side stepping the oncoming attack,. He cast his own spell in return. "Lumos Maximus!" Harry yelled, putting as much power behind it as he could. The resulting flash elicited several yelps from the students as they were temporarily blinded; Thorne, however, recognised the incantation just in time and covered his eyes before he could be affected.

Quickly as he could, Damien cast, "_Petrificus Totalus!" _hoping to immobilize his opponent. Harry blocked it with a "_Protego,_" followed by "_Rictusempra!_"

The students followed the duel with gaping mouths. Only half of them thought Harry would last this long, fewer still dared believe he'd do so well. Draco, Ron, the Ravenclaws and several Slytherins cheered him on wildly while the the rest either remained quiet or backed Thorne. The duellers seemed evenly matched until Damien used a forbidden curse.

"_Reducto_!" he yelled with a confident smirk on his face.

Harry dodged the spell but not completely. The very edge of it caught his sleeve, spinning him around and putting a nasty gash on his left arm.

"Thorne!" Snape roared, obviously incensed by the illegal spell. His rebuke was ignored by the duellers, however, as Harry retaliated. Trying not to let his wound affect him, he used the momentum of the spin to bring his wand to bear again and cast a spell that Sal had taught him shortly before his disappearance earlier in the term. "_Cuecus Usus Umbra!"_ he snapped. A tiny black ball shot from Harry's wand, unfurling into an inky black veil. Damien, not recognising the spell, cast a shield charm but could only stare in horror as it sailed right through. The veil hit Thorne's face and wrapped tightly around his head, blocking all view of it.

The Slytherin upstart let out a yelp when the veil obstructed his sight, then quickly cast "_Lumos,_" and "_Lumos Maximus,_" though it had no effect on Harry's spell. Sounding slightly panicked, Thorne began casting curses in random directions, trying, futilely, to get Harry with a lucky shot. Several students fell victim to body binds and tickling curses but Harry stayed one step ahead of every spell cast in his direction. Every few seconds Thorne would cast another spell on himself, trying to remove the veil with little result for his effort. Thorne's voice kept on taking on a more strained tone every second, soon bordering on hysterical. His reaction surprised everybody, including his opponent.

Harry had cast the veil, unsure how well it would work in an actual duel. Sal had taught it to him because he'd pointed out that most people relied on their eyes for everything, including fighting. The veil, Sal explained, was a construct of shadow that would temporarily blind the caster's opponent. Harry had tried it a few times with Draco but had never had an effect like this with his friend.

The smile that had been on Harry's face at the prospect of winning the duel faded as he watched Thorne fall apart in front of the group. Damien had quit casting spells and abandoned his wand as well. He was scratching desperately at his face, trying to remove the insubstantial veil.

Using "_accio," _Harry summoned Damien's wand, officially ending the duel. He then stepped forward quickly and cast "_Lumos_" with his wand as he touched it to Thorne's head, making the veil evaporate like so much smoke. Thorne, on his knees, kept his face hidden as he wiped it furiously with his shirt sleeves and tried to stifle the sobs that had been welling up. Not wanting to embarrass the other boy any further, Harry placed Damien's wand on the floor beside him and turned to go back to Draco.

"Good show!" Professor Lockhart said as he bounded up and raised Harry's hand in the air like it was a prize-fight. "It reminds me of the time I was in the Tibetan duelling tournament a few years back while I was hunting Yetis in the Andes."

"The Himalayas," Harry corrected.

"Er... right," Lockhart said quickly. "Just a little joke. Now, as I was saying-"

A squeal from one of the female Hufflepuffs was all the warning Harry had before Thorne, who'd recovered his wand where Harry left it, cast a hate filled, "Serpentsoria!" An alarmed Professor Snape relieved Damien of his wand, but not before the spell was cast.

Spinning about,Harry stood face to snout with a very large, angry and venomous Mountain Viper. From his research on magical snakes, Harry knew that this was a cousin of the cobra. Its hood, while still a sure way of telling when the snake was frightened or angry, also served as a shield that minimized the effect of most spells.

Harry stood frozen, knowing that the viper, agitated as it was, was looking for a target to vent its rage on. Thorne had successfully summoned it but apparently didn't know how to control the snake. With no will guiding it but its own, the viper went looking for something to attack. Unfortunately for the spectators, it wasn't Harry.

The crowd took a collective step back when the viper appeared and was now filled with fearful murmurs as its gaze swept its gaze over them. "I'll take care of this," Professor Snape said as he approached the reptile, only to stop when Harry held up a hand and shook his head. The snake was angry and any sudden movement could cause it to strike. Severus, trusting Harry's judgement, held back from acting. Professor Lockhart, on the other hand, lacked both the intelligence and self restraint necessary at the moment.

"Never fear," Lockhart said, preening for the camera. "I've got it." With a wave of his wand, the professor caused the mountain viper to be thrown violently into the air. When the enraged snake landed, it turned toward the nearest student, a Hufflepuff second year by the name of Justin Finch-Fletchley, and reared to strike.

"Stop!" Harry hissed at the snake in Parseltongue. At his command, the viper slumped to the floor, limp as a garden hose. Silence reigned in the Great Hall as everyone Gaped at him. Most of the students wore fearful expressions, though the Slytherins looked almost awed. Professor Snape wore a troubled expression and Lockhart squealed like a little girl before falling from the stage.

Ignoring the surge of fear he felt from the students nearest him, Harry quietly called the now docile reptile to him. "Just what are you playing at?" Justin cried as he got his voice back. "That thing could have killed me! You were talking to it, we all saw you. Did you tell it to attack me? Malfoy had you do it, didn't he?"

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or scream at Finch-Fletchley's words. He could only think that the Hufflepuff boy must be hysterical to spout such nonsense and believe even half of it. Still, the growing murmurs of the other students was beginning to worry him so he decided to put an end to it right then.

"Justin," he asked as he stroked the viper soothingly. "You said I had the snake attack you, I conjured it then?"

"Well no," Finch-Fletchley conceded. "But-"

"That's right," Harry interrupted. "Thorne summoned it. So it had nothing to do with you before I spoke to it?"

"It was looking at us, then Professor Lockhart-"

"Right," Harry snapped, now sounding irritated. "So I called it off and that must mean I wanted it to attack you... how?"

"It's just that – well, you spoke to it in Parseltongue."

"So what if I did?" Harry challenged. "Last time I checked, it's something you're born with. I know how to cook and clean, does that make me a house elf?" Sensing through their auras that many of the students remained unconvinced, Harry wrapped the viper over his shoulders and stood. "Parseltongue isn't evil, neither is this snake. He just got summoned from his den by that ponce over there and attacked by someone who should have really known better." Not bothering to listen to anything the assembled students might have to say, Harry leapt from the stage and dashed from the hall. Draco tried to follow, but was intercepted by his housemates who were full of questions.

Alone, except for his new friend, Harry went straight to the one place at Hogwarts he felt relaxed. The astronomy tower. Seating himself on the parapet and casting his newly learned warming charm on himself and the snake, he pulled his flute from his bag and began to play. Harry let the music relax him and had to fight a grin as the viper began to sway in time to the dulcet tones. So wrapped up was he in his miniature concert, that he was actually startled when he heard a voice beside him.

"You play wonderfully," said a dreamy voice. "It's like the call of the Thiggletwerp bird, though you aren't trying to lure innocent wizards into your lair for dinner."

With a sour expression, Harry remarked, "A lot of the people in the Duelling Club probably think just that."

"Yes they do," Luna answered conversationally., "Just like they thought it was Draco yesterday. They just need someone to blame and since you can talk to snakes... What are you going to do with him anyway?" she asked as she ran his fingers along his scales, completely unafraid.

"I was thinking about asking Hagrid to watch him till spring. Then it'll be warm enough that he'll be able to go into the forest and make himself a burrow."

"I thought you'd taken him for a pet."

A weak smile flitted across Harry's face as he answered. "After Hedwig and Loki, I'm pretty sure Aunt Petunia would disown me if I brought home another snake."

"You care for her a lot," Luna observed.

"She raised me," he answered. "they're all family I have, her and Dudley, they accept me for who I am. Things weren't always the best between us, especially in the beginning, but after the accident we had no one else. Neither of us could have made it if we hadn't been there for each other. Now what I feel for her... It's something like what I think I'd feel for my mum and dad." Tilting his head quizzically, he asked, "What about your family? You never really talk about them."

"I live with my father," she answered in her dreamy voice, though there was now a hint of sadness laced through it. "It's been just us for two years now. My mother, had a spell go wrong on her when I was nine."

"I'm sorry," Harry murmured, putting a comforting arm around her shoulders. The two of them sat together for a time, finding comfort in each other's company and talking about nothing in particular. Finally, Harry got up and helped Luna to her feet.

"It's almost dinner time," he said. "I'm going to run the snake down to Hagrid and find Draco. He's got to be beside himself wondering where I am."

"Thanks for talking with me Harry," Luna replied as she dusted some snow from her robes. "I have a Florean Knockbanger in my room that I tell my problems to most of the time but It's nicer with you. I'm not sure I really trust it to keep all my secrets anyway."

"Er... right," Harry said uncertainly. "Can't be too careful about that." When they reached the bottom of the tower, Harry suggested, "You can go to dinner if you want. I have to get Fangs down to Hagrid."

"Fangs?" she asked. "He has a name now?"

Blushing a bit, Harry answered, "Yeah, just now. It feels kind of strange to talk about him a lot and not have anything to call him. It's only temporary anyway. Hagrid will probably rename him so as to not confuse him with Fang."

"That's nice," Luna said lightly. "I think I'll walk down with the both of you and Fangs. Maybe Hagrid knows something about the Ksilisab.

"What do you mean both-"

"Harry!" called Draco as he came barrelling around a corner. "I should have guessed you'd be here. Word's gotten all over school about you talking to the viper. Between that and thrashing Thorne in the duel, half the students think you're the heir now."

"And you think that's good?" Harry asked in disbelief. Not wanting to just stand around, he began making his way toward the Entrance Hall as Luna and an excited Draco followed.

"Of course it's good," the Slytherin snorted. "Most of my house is ready to crown you their leader and most everyone else is scared witless. Don't you see? Blind or not, people are beginning to take you seriously now."

"Right, but I didn't necessarily-" Harry's reply was cut short as the sound of his next step heralded itself with a splash. Stopping abruptly, Harry stretched his senses to their utmost and whispered urgently, "Draco!"

"Yeah, I know," the blond replied nervously in kind.

"What?" Luna asked. "The Mer-Beetles probably just wanted to come out of the bathroom."

"shush," Draco muttered as Harry crept toward the next corner. "This is exactly how we found Mrs Norris on Halloween." Moving quickly, they caught up with Harry at the corner where he stood with shoulders slumped.

"It's happened again," he said. "there's two of them this time... I think."

Peering around his friend's shoulder, Draco gasped. "It's Finch-Fletchley and the Gryffindor ghost!" he hissed. "We're going to get blamed for this anyway but we really shouldn't be here when somebody else finds them."

"Let's go then," Harry urged his friend with a push. "First take a good look at them and try to remember everything you can. Quickly, I can hear Mr Filch coming this way."

Wasting no time, the three made a hasty retreat and made it to the Entrance Hall in record time. Seeing they were about to gotout, Draco stopped with a horrified expression. "But these are-"

"Your robes are fine," Harry snorted as he pushed his friend through the doors. "We'll be back before anybody sees you."

They quickly made their way to Hagrid's hut where they found the half-giant grimly stuffing dead birds of some kind into a bag.

"Hey Hagrid," Harry called, trying to sound like everything was normal. "How are you?"

"Eh?" the grounds keeper grunted, then brightened visibly on seeing who had come to visit. "Harry, Draco, it's good ta see ya (en if it's not th best time). An who's yer new frien?"

"Rubeus Hagrid," Said Draco with a flourish. "May I present Luna Lovegood, first year Ravenclaw, Merlin's Crest."

With a toothy grin, Hagrid bowed low to Luna, who returned it with a proper curtsy.

"So what's in the bag?" Harry asked curiously.

A wave of sorrow came from the grounds keeper answered. "Er... nothin' really. Roosters been turnin up dead in th coops. It's probl'y just a wolf or sommat came out o the forest lookin for food."

"Whatever it was only attacked the roosters?" Luna asked in a whimsical voice. What about the chickens?"

There was a short pause as Hagrid thought about what she was saying. "Come t think on it, none the chickens was touched." he said with a mystified tone.

"Ksilisabs don't like roosters," Luna pointed out. "Someone must have come down and killed them for it."

"A Ksilisab," Hagrid asked, bemused. "Whas that?"

"Luna thinks it's the creature that attacked Mrs Norris and Hermione," Harry explained. "I can't find it in any of the books we have, so you don't know anything about it either?"

"Sorry," Hagrid said regretfully. "I don't remember hearin bout anythin like that."

"What about the Chamber of Secrets then?" Draco asked. "There's been a rumour that it's been opened before. Have you heard anything about what happened that time? How was it stopped?"

The change in Hagrid's aura, caused by Draco's seemingly innocent question, was startling to Harry. From mild curiosity, the grounds keeper's aspect changed to full blown fear and panic in just seconds. "Wha would I know abou tha?" Hagrid squeaked, something quite noteworthy in someone so large. "I din't ave nothin t do wit it... me or Aragog!" the half-giant said gruffly as he hefted the bag of roosters over his shoulder, leaving Harry, Luna and Draco gaping after him.

"I never even got to ask him if he'd take care of Fangs," Harry said forlornly as they started back toward the castle. "Now what am I going to do with him?"

The three hadn't made it half way back up the path when they heard somebody calling Harry's name. Looking up, they saw one of the Ravenclaw first years running toward them from the castle.

"What is it Seth?" Harry asked as the boy stumbled to a stop in front of them. He remembered him from the sorting, the boy was a bit excitable, but open-minded.

"Professor-" the boy gasped out between ragged breaths. "Professor Flitwick – sent me – to find you. Waiting – in the Entrance Hall!"

"Oh Merlin," Harry groaned as he pulled the viper out of his cloak. "What now."

Turning to Draco, he asked, "Can you take Fangs for now? I don't know how long I'll be."

Brightening, Draco answered excitedly, "Certainly, give him here... I may even know where he can stay permanently." He reached out to take the snake but pulled back quickly when he received a warning hiss from Fangs. "Tell him not to bite me first," he squeaked.

Nodding, Harry murmured a few words in Parseltongue to the viper, eliciting a gasp from Seth. Grimacing at the first year's reaction, he handed the snake over to Draco before they all headed up to the castle together.

Upon reaching the entrance hall, Draco and Luna walked off toward the dungeons while Seth, glad to be relieved of his duty, ran for the Great Hall and dinner, leaving Harry and Professor Flitwick in relative privacy.

"How are you Harry," the diminutive professor asked by way of greeting. "Professor Dumbledore has asked to see you before you have dinner." With Harry's nod of acceptance, Professor Flitwick escorted him toward the headmaster's office. As they walked, the professor brought up the day's earlier excitement. "I heard about your duel with young Thorne this afternoon," he remarked. "I'd feared that when the headmaster removed DADA from your classes, that your ability to defend yourself would suffer. I'm very pleased to see that I was wrong."

With a non-committal shrug, Harry answered. "From what I've heard, DADA isn't doing much more than a Gilderoy Lockhart fan club."

"Yes – well, Gilderoy's teaching methods are a bit odd," Professor Flitwick replied. "Though I am curious to find out where you picked up that intriguing spell you used to incapacitate Thorne."

"Oh, that," Harry said uncomfortably. "You know we started a study group in the Merlin common room. Originally it was so I could follow along with everyone and not get too far behind in defence. It was after my friends had their first few classes in DADA that we all started teaching each other. It was because of that I went to see another one of the professors. He suggested that since most other people rely on their sight so much, I should find a way to use it to my advantage. He taught me this spell and a couple others that might help in a fight."

"And help it did," squeaked the professor excitedly. "I wish I'd been there to see it. If you need any help with your study group, feel free to come ask me."

"Thank you sir," Harry replied. "I will... Sir, I was wondering... what happened after the duel..."

"Don't fret about that," Professor Flitwick admonished. "Parseltongue is a rare gift that is no darker than divination or left handedness. To an intelligent wizard your gift should represent nothing more than a wonderful opportunity for a career as a snake handler later in life... if you wish. Your true friends will stick with you in the end, the others really shouldn't matter to you."

"Thank you sir," Harry said with a relieved sigh. The prospect of being ostracised for his gift had weighed more on his mind that he cared to admit. Hearing Professor Flitwick be so open minded about it gave Harry hope that others would too. Before long, they arrived before a recessed gargoyle that the Professor indicated was the guardian of the headmaster's office.

"Fizzing Whizbees," said the professor, grinning at Harry. "Professor Dumbledore has a bit of a sweet tooth, all his passwords are candies." To prove his point, the Gargoyle leapt aside, exposing a stairway leading up to the headmaster's office. The moment they entered it, however, Harry was nearly overwhelmed by the amount of magic coming from above. In self defence, Harry closed his inner eye and relied on his cane to navigate the steps. When they reached the door at the top, Professor Flitwick raised his hand and went to knock but was interrupted by the headmaster's voice. "Come in Filius, harry," called Dumbledore through the door.

They entered a room that felt several degrees warmer than the rest of the castle; it wasn't stifling just cozy. Harry could detect the aroma of scented candles (possibly lilac), wood burning, and the pleasant musk of some type of animal. A myriad of sounds assaulted his ears as well. There were countless items in the room ticking, whirring, or making some other odd or unique sound. Allowing Professor Flitwick to guide him forward, Harry took his place in front of the Headmaster's desk.

"Thank you Filius," Professor Dumbledore said by way of dismissal. "I'll send Harry back down for dinner shortly."

"But Headmaster," the Ravenclaw head of house said uncertainly. "I thought..."

"We won't be long," Professor Dumbledore reassured him. "I just wanted to speak with Harry alone for a few minutes." Unable to find an objection, Professor Flitwick left, leaving Harry with the Headmaster. "Please have a seat Harry," he said to the boy kindly. "I'll be with you in a moment."

Harry felt the edge of a large chair bump against the back of his legs, making him sit reflexively. The seat was high enough that his feet no longer touched the floor when he sat. leaning back, Harry had to admit the chair was comfortable. The cushions were soft and must be charmed for warmth as well. A soft, lilting music seemed to be played gently into his ears, coming of the back, it was very relaxing.

The minutes passed and Harry had nothing to occupy his senses except the warm cocoon of his chair, the gentle music and the scratch of the headmaster's quill on parchment. After a while, he started to experience that floating sensation that occurs on the edge of sleep. Almost imperceptibly at first, Harry began to feel a gently, steady pressure against his mental shields. A part of him worried about this, nothing should be pressing on them at all. Still, the warmth was relaxing and Harry's misgivings ebbed as the gentle pressure flowed along his shields looking for weakness. Finding cracks in the still immature defences, the presence had just begun to gently squeeze through when Harry was snapped back to wakefulness by a shrill, yet sickly squawk.

Jerking upright in the chair, Harry forced himself to wake up as he heard a dull thump then a whoosh of flame. "What?" he asked in confusion.

"That," Professor Dumbledore said, sounding both amused and inexplicably annoyed at the same time, "is Fawkes. "He is a phoenix and my companion these many years. You've caught him on a burning day, one that was long overdue."

"A burning day..."

"You see," the headmaster explained. "Phoenixes are all but immortal. That's not to say they cannot die, rather it is when their time comes they are consumed by flame and reborn from their own ashes."

As if on cue, a tiny peep could be heard from where the commotion had been raised just moments before. "And the cycle of life begins anew," Professor Dumbledore said quietly. "Now Harry, if you could just take your seat again for a few more minutes, I'll be right with you."

An uneasy feeling coming over him that he couldn't explain, Harry declined, "No thank you sir."

There was a short pause, almost as if the headmaster couldn't believer his ears. "Excuse me?"

"Dinner is almost over sir, Aunt Petunia insists I attend every meal. She thinks I'm too thin," Harry added with a grin. "If I'm not there, Dudley will tell her and she'll be up here faster than you can apparate.

"I was wanting to ask you about what happened today."

Shrugging, Harry replied, "I went to the duelling club meeting and won a duel, that's about it."

"You weren't supposed to be there," the headmaster admonished. "It was for DADA students only."

"The notice didn't say anything about that," Harry said with a tone bordering on the disrespectful. "The professors didn't seem to have a problem with it either."

"I do, however, Harry," Professor Dumbledore stated firmly. "You won't be allowed to participate in any further sessions. That club is simply too dangerous for you."

"I – won – the – duel," Harry annunciated carefully, as if he was teaching letters to a toddler. "Why won't you let me try?"

"I'm doing this for your own good."

Walking stiffly to the door, Harry announced, "I'm going to dinner now... good evening Professor."

"Harry wait," Dumbledore called. "I know about you speaking Parseltongue. Would you like to hear my theory about the reason you have this gift?"

Harry stopped momentarily with his hand on the doorknob, looking as if he was thinking the offer over. Turning slightly to face the headmaster, he flashed a bitter smile and answered, "Not in the slightest." With that parting shot, Harry stepped out of the office and closed the door firmly behind him.


	12. Be Careful What You Wish For

**Disclaimer**: I do not own Harry Potter, a mansion, a Rolls Royce, lots of jewlery, tons of money or anything really cool... I do have a beat up 1996 chevy pickup and a bad case of atheletes foot.

Blind Faith: Slytherin's Heir

Chapter 12 Be Careful What You Wish For

Harry and Draco nervously stood together in the cramped dark space, waiting for the signal to go. Harry hid his unease, leaning against the wall while Draco anxiously peered through a crack at the chaos outside. As much to distract himself as Draco, he casually asked, "Nervous?"

Turning away from his peep hole, Draco put his back to the wall beside his friend and gave a weak laugh in response. Harry couldn't see his friends face but Draco's voice and aura were full of agitation. "Of course not," the blond said shakily. There was a short pause before he swallowed thickly and added, "I think I'm going to sick up."

"Try to relax," Harry soothed as he stomped his feet, trying to get some feeling back. "It was the same with me my first time. Remember, you've trained for this, we both have."

"So does the sick feeling ever go away?"

"No," Put in Cedric from nearby. "You do get used to it, however. Now if you ladies are done chatting, we have a Quidditch match to win."

Their faces burning, the second year Merlins took their places and mounted their brooms. Using one of the first techniques Sal ever taught him, Harry took slow, even breaths to help him relax and find his centre. Draco, recognising the meditation exercise, followed suit and soon both boys felt their tension melt away.

Feeling much better, Draco glanced at his best friend and with his trademark sneer, asked teasingly, "Scared, Potter?"

Having just finished his bogus sight spell, Harry answered flippantly, "You wish."

In what seemed like no time at all, the doors swung open allowing the Hufflepuff team to take the field. Ravenclaw, having already finished their warm up, waved to the crowd while Harry's team did a few quick drills, trying get comfortable on their brooms in the cold winter air. For Harry, at least, it didn't feel necessary.

Regardless of the temperature, the moment they'd taken to the air, Harry felt truly at home. Exhilaration washed away any lingering traces of the pre-game tension that he'd been feeling and he let out a howl of delight. Draco, holding a tight formation with him, seemed to be having a similar reaction as they began their wild warm up laps.

Harry could feel his friend's aura was charged with excitement as they finished their first go-round and took position centre field, waiting patiently for Madam Hooch to signal start of play. Cadwaller, the other Hufflepuff Chaser and Jenkins from Ravenclaw, took their positions either side of Madam Hooch as she prepared to start the game. Harry, Draco and the remaining Ravenclaw chasers faced each other tensely as seconds counted down the the start of the match.

Harry's ears perked up as the Golden Snitch was released and shot past him with a metallic whir. Its glowing trail of sparks was quickly followed by twin streaks as the Bludgers were set loose next. Harry couldn't help but flinch a little as they went by, remembering his last encounter with them. The cheering from the stands muted and tension rose as the final game ball was pulled from the trunk and held aloft.

Madam Hooch held the Quaffle before her and tossed it into the air, bringing a fresh roar from the crowd. While not as magically charged as the other game balls, it still had several enchantments placed on it, making the ball easily recognisable to Harry. The Quaffle soared into the air with Cadwaller and Jenkins in close pursuit. Harry, Draco and the two other Ravenclaw chasers were right behind though, each trying to get possession of the ball. It was Jenkins, however, that got to it first, giving Ravenclaw first advantage.

Passing it to his team mates, they made quick progress down the pitch, putting it past Hodge and through the right-most hoop of the Hufflepuff goal, establishing an early lead.

"Ravenclaw scores the first goal of the game," shouted Lee Jordan excitedly.

Regrouping quickly, Draco snatched the ball from Hodges hands and threw it toward Harry. "Passing drills," he called as he dove to find an opening. Thus began a dizzying game among the Hufflepuff chasers that had their opponents so confused that one of them attempted an intercept that ended in an embarrassing and painful fall from their broom.

"Ouch!" cried Lee. "It looks as though Adams caught a Bludger! He'll be feeling that tomorrow – Malfoy scores! The score is now tied, ten all!"

The game went on much the same way for another forty minutes. The two houses put on an areal dance that was beautiful as it was brutal. Still, as the game progressed, Harry's team slowly pulled ahead of their opponents. For every goal Ravenclaw made, Hufflepuff matched or doubled. After the latest goal, Lee announced the score to be 130/80 with the Badgers in the lead.

Tension began to mount as Cedric and Cho Chang each spotted the Snitch and set out on a mad dash to get it. Hoping to distract the opposing seeker a bit, Harry called out, "Thread the Needle!"

Snatching the Quaffle from an unprepared Ravenclaw, Harry, Draco and Cadwaller began a tight, spiraling formation, passing the ball between them as they rapidly approached the hoops. The other team tried breaking the formation or steal the Quaffle but the Hufflepuff team was too closely packed and their beaters were running an effective interference to protect their run. Harry and his companions lay flat on their brooms, accelerating as they passed the Quaffle to each other on their approach to the hoops. At the last second, Harry threw the ball at the centre hoop ahead of him while angling his ancient broom to follow the ball. Draco and Cadwaller, each targeting one of the other hoops followed his example and the three chasers made a suicidal dash to the goal.

The Ravenclaw keeper had to make a split-second decision. He could block the ball and possibly get hit by at least one of the three maniacs charging him or he dodge and hope they missed the hoop. Wisely, he chose the latter course, though it did cost their team another ten points as the Quaffle, then Harry, tore through the centre hoop, his form barely fitting through the ring while his team mates followed suit on either side. The crowd roared in approval, first at the daring score, then at Lee's announcement that sounded both excited and annoyed at the same time.

"Cedric Diggory has the Snitch! Hufflepuff wins, 290/80!"

Harry and the rest of the team landed and mobbed Cedric as he held the Golden Snitch aloft in victory. It was an astounding win for the Badgers. Hufflepuff hadn't won by such a huge margin in years. After the obligatory round of hand shaking with the opposing team, made uncomfortable to Harry by the waves of resentment he felt coming from his house-mates, Hufflepuff lifted the entire team on their shoulders and carried them toward the castle and the victory celebration.

"You'd think they'd won the cup," Draco yelled to his friend over the cheers.

"We've never won by so much!" answered one of the Beaters. "For years, even when we did win, it was by the skin of our teeth. Now with Cedric leading us and those new trick plays, we've got a real shot at the cup!"

In short order they were carried inside the school, upstairs and into the Hufflepuff common room. There, Harry was grabbed by an ecstatic Dudley and dragged through the crowd to be introduced to all his cousin's friends. Most of them Harry already knew, at least in passing. Still, he let Duds have his moment while trying to ignore the occasional cold or slightly fearful emotions he would get from some of the students.

Even though he'd expected it, people's reaction to him being a Parselmouth still bothered him. Though it had only happened the previous day, news of Harry's 'gift' had spread through the school like wildfire. Though everyone's reaction had been mixed, attitudes toward him seemed to be polarized along house lines.

The Gryffindors had reacted with the most negativity. Neville seized the revelation as proof that Harry had been playing some sick game with them this whole time and even began dropping hints that Harry might not be as completely sightless as he claimed, at least he did until his next detention with Professor Snape. After that he never mentioned anything about Harry's condition again, even when pressed by his mates, the boy seemed clueless to what they were talking about. Ron, oddly, was the notable exception. While not vocally supporting Harry, he'd still shown up for study group later that day and did his best to act if nothing had happened.

The majority of Slytherin were viewing Harry the exact opposite way, with notable exception of Thorne and his cronies; they were treating Both Harry and Draco with respect, a respect that bordered on reverence. Not only were they honouring the boys as heroes, the Merlins found they'd picked up an unexpected and unwelcome (on Harry's part) entourage made up of whatever Slytherins were available who would escort them between classes.

Both Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, however, had bothered Harry the most. While there hadn't been the odd polarization as with Gryffindor and Slytherin, he felt a general haze of fear and distrust not only from Dudley's house mates, but his own as well. It was this undercurrent he was feeling as he moved between the huddled groups as the celebration continued.

After a time, Harry closed his inner eye rather than feel all the negativity around him and tried to enjoy the party. Unfortunately, conversations with anybody but his team mates or Dudley felt forced and uncomfortable. Quiet comments between some of the party goers, spoken in low mutters that they didn't know he could hear, finally drove Harry to leave the Hufflepuff tower. He'd thought to tell Draco where he was going, but hearing his friend boasting to a seemingly eager group of listeners about their chaser strategy, he decided not to ruin the party for his friend as well.

Stepping out into the corridor, he was met by their Slytherin escort. They'd begun following him around directly outside Dumbledore's office after the Duelling Club incident. He could smell the slightly musky aroma of Blaise Zabini's cologne and heard the hitching sigh that Daphne Greengrass used when bored.

"Blaise, Daphne," he said by way of greeting as he passed.

Some silent communication passed between the two Slytherins and moments later Harry heard Blaise's slightly heavier steps following him toward the Ravenclaw tower. "Great game," said the boy as he caught up with Harry. "It's the best I've ever seen the Huffs play."

"You really don't have to walk me back to the dorms," Harry grunted irritably. "I'm not the Heir of Slytherin."

"Maybe you are, maybe you aren't," Blaise replied lightly. "Bloodlines get so mixed up after a thousand years, you could be and not even know it. Anyway, that's not really the point. You're one of the top ten students in our year, you know more defensive magic than most of the fifth or sixth years I know and Probably more than Lockhart as well."

"A first year Muggleborn would know more than him," Harry pointed out as they made their way down a level on the moving staircases.

"Right," said Blaise with a smile in his voice. "The thing is, you're a natural leader and while nobody can prove whether you're the heir or not, things happen around you. Those of us that are true Slytherins know how to feel which way the wind is blowing and when to grasp onto opportunity."

"Hmph."

They walked the rest of the way to Ravenclaw tower in silence. Parting at the portrait, Harry bid his escort a goodnight and went up to his dorm. Having lost the match today, his house mates were in less than high spirits and said nothing to him as he passed. Not feeling chatty himself, this suited Harry just fine. He was dead tired and wanted nothing more than to curl up under his covers. Tomorrow everyone would be headed home for Christmas Holidays and Harry couldn't wait to sleep in his own bed again.

Climbing into bed, Harry was greeted by his two pets. Hedwig, hissing a greeting from the pillow beside his head snuggled into the crook of his neck. Loki, bolder of the two, nestled himself on the centre of Harry's chest. The miniature Dragon was getting a bit large for this, however. The tiny creature that could hide itself behind one of his ears was now quite a bit longer than his forearm. Affectionately scratching Hedwig under her chin and patting Loki, Harry drifted off to sleep with the sounds and smells of home filling his dreams.

xXx

Early the next morning, long before the sun was due to rise, Harry made his way down to the dungeons in order to collect Draco for their last training session before the Hollidays. If circumstances had been different, They would have kept up the meetings in the Room of Requirement since Draco would be staying at the castle anyway and his own home being just a few minutes walk away. Professor Dumbledore would be in the castle over the break, however, and Harry couldn't help but feel the old wizard was watching them a bit more closely than before. For that reason, they would leave off their training schedule until school started back again in January.

Arriving at an apparently blank wall in the dungeon corridor Harry leaned toward it and whispered "Pureblood Pride." The wall silently swung inward, revealing the dimly lit Slytherin common room beyond. Not having to rely on visible light, Harry navigated the room with practised ease. He'd visited Draco many times over the past year and a half and even with his inner eye closed he could move about with confidence. He'd made it part way across the room when a familiar hiss brought him up short.

True to his word, Draco had found a home for the summoned Cobra. He'd enlisted some of the upper year Slytherins to conjure the terrarium and set up wards to protect the reptile and keep it comfortable.

Reaching out with his senses, Harry located a huge open terrarium set up between the doorways to the boys and girls dorms. Coiled on a large rock, Fangs announced his presence in Parseltongue. Returning the greeting in kind, Harry made his way to the boys dorms and Draco's room.

A slight knock was all it took to bring Draco out. The blond had obviously been waiting for Harry and by his aura, was more than a bit annoyed. "You left me with the Puffs," Draco hissed accusingly.

"You were enjoying yourself," Harry replied quietly as they made their way out of the Slytherin common room. "I bet you didn't even notice I'd left for at least an hour.

"I _told_ youthey're Puffs. You don't enjoy their company, just tolerate it. Anyway, I knew it the moment you left, I simply refused to be rude by leaving the party so soon."

Draco's haughty demeanour cracked a bit when Harry made a rude noise in response to his assertion. They quickly forgot about the party altogether as they started work on new strategies to be used for Quidditch next term. In short order, they'd navigated the empty corridors and entered the Room of Requirement for their training session.

The boys workout with Ric were exhausting and informative but Harry couldn't help but miss Sal's influence on their program. It wasn't that Ric was a poor teacher; he was, after all, an echo of Gryffindor himself. Still, he tended to centre most of his instruction on combat and duelling tactics. Sal, on the other hand, took a more holistic approach to their training. He would teach meditation techniques, magical theory and even Muggle dance to improve their coordination. With him still missing, Harry felt a bit... lost. Unfortunately, Sal was still unreachable and they ended up sweaty, winded and bruised by the time their session was over.

"Go get cleaned up, you two," the custodian said with a proud smile. "I'll see you in a couple weeks, after holidays."

A quick shower and change of clothes (courtesy of the ROR) had the boys entering the Great Hall just as breakfast was being served. Arriving among the early risers, Harry and Draco sat down at the merlin table, across from a quite drowsy Terry Boot, the only other Merlin present as of yet, and tucked into their meals.

As they ate, Harry couldn't help feel, even without his sight, that he was being watched. Still not wanting to open his inner eye, as going without was much more comfortable within the castle; his senses, now restored, had regained their previous sensitivity to intense magics. A quiet question to Draco soon had him aware that a certain headmaster was trying, unsuccessfully, to keep an eye on Harry without being noticed. Not willing to have the first day of Holidays spoiled by anything, Harry chose to ignore it and concentrate on his meal.

Their breakfast was interrupted a few minutes later when an owl landed before them in a flurry of feathers. Harry, hadn't been using his inner eye at the time, had only a few seconds warning as he heard its approach. He was still able to save his breakfast platter, however and give the bird room to land.

"Who's sending you owls?" Draco asked after hastily swallowing a mouth full of eggs.

"I'm not sure," he replied as he let his fingers trail over the birds form until he came across a fairly large bundle tied to its leg. Releasing it, Harry offered the owl a banger that was eagerly accepted before the bird flew away, allowing Harry a chance to examine his delivery.

"It's a book, I think," Harry said as he ran his fingers over the paper wrapping. Locating a note attached to the package, he scanned it with his fingers, his expression becoming quickly more excited. "He found one."

"Who found what?" Draco asked, his attention torn between Harry's acquisition and his morning meal.

"Remember I told you about writing Mr Borgin, asking if he knew of any books on dark creatures," Harry answered as he methodically removed the paper from his package. "It looks like he must have found something." Carefully folding the discarded wrapping, he sat it on the bench beside him before running his fingers over the book's cover. It was made of a tough yet supple leather and something in its texture screamed 'ancient'. Embossed on the spine was the book's title. "_**Ye Beasties Magical, Both Dark and Light**__,"_ Harry murmured as he opened it to the contents page. The Exuberant expression He'd been wearing all along darkened to a thoughtful frown as he ran his fingers over the parchment.

"Now what?" Draco asked warily as he noticed his friend's reaction.

"This may take longer than I thought," Harry answered slowly. "The book only seems to list the creatures alphabetically and there's a lot of them."

"So you have to read the entire book before you even know whether our snake is in there?"

Shrugging as much to himself as for Draco's benefit, Harry sighed and said with a resigned tone, "There's nothing for it." Closing the book and placing it in his bottomless bag, explained, "I'll just have to start on it later when Duds and I get home." What he didn't mention was the eyes of the Headmaster that he still felt surreptitiously trained on them.

Breakfast was soon over and as a group, the students going home for Holidays walked down to the express in Hogsmeade. While not taking the train, Harry, Dudley and Draco were among the other students accompanied by Professor Snape. Among them were several Merlins including Luna, Terry and even Ron Weasley from Gryffindor trailed along behind them for a bit. He was staying behind as well, with his other siblings but was seeing the other Gryffindors off. He stayed with them until Neville and Ginny came over and pulled him away, Longbottom whispering something fiercely in his ear.

Dudley, being his normal, hyperactive self, was pulling Harry along at a near run. While wanting to see his friends off at the train, Duds was more interested in getting home and seeing his mother. Caught up in the excitement, he kept chattering on about his new room and all the fun things they'd do over the holiday. Draco and Professor Snape followed along, hiding their amusement at young Dudley's antics while the rest of the Merlins just chuckled quietly among themselves.

At the station, everyone said their goodbyes and went their separate ways. Most simply wished Harry a happy Holiday, though Luna slipped a turnip into his hand with the promise that it would keep him safe from Bandy-Legged Nurflers until his return to school. Harry already missed them all fiercely, even as the train was pulling out of the station. Still, free of the castle and evil giant snakes, it was turning out to be a wonderful Christmas Holiday, though he knew a good portion of it would go into studying his new book.

Between his family, Professor Snape and Draco, Harry's attention was centred more on them than his search for the chamber monster. Dudley was constantly under foot, over-enthusiastically guiding Harry as he familiarized himself with the now fully unpacked house. Petunia was little better; after an extended period of not having both her boys home together, she spent her time either clinging to them or popping up at the oddest moments to see that they were alright. While Professor Snape respected Harry's occasional need for privacy, and even ran interference when he could with Aunt Petunia, he made no such effort with the Malfoy heir.

Draco unilaterally made it his mission to keep Harry from spending the entire holiday wrapped up in his new book. On days where he didn't actually sleep over, he would beat on Harry's door almost before the sun had risen, eager to be about some new adventure. They had thoroughly explored the village and purchased everyone's Christmas presents. They'd even gotten something for Hermione and planned to leave their gifts on her bed-side table for when she woke. They'd also gone a bit into the Forbidden Forest, though stories of the dangers there kept them from going too far. The day before Christmas saw them in Harry's room, wrapping gifts for the next day.

Carefully folding the wrapping around Luna's gift, Harry grinned to himself as he heard Draco curse and crumple yet another sheet of paper. "This is pointless!" the Malfoy Heir declared as he threw the paper in the bin. "Why can't I just wrap it with magic like the house elves do?"

"You remember, we made a deal," Harry reminded him as he finished his package and placed it aside. "I let you help me pick the gifts for my friends and we wrap them the Muggle way."

In truth, Harry was glad for Draco's help when it came to shopping. He'd planned to give all his friends Muggle gifts to show them something of the other world. Draco had quickly nixed the idea, explaining that to most pureblood families, such gifts would be considered inconsiderate at best and more likely an insult even with an explanation. The shopping spree that resulted lasted three days with Draco in charge of the entire affair. The only time Harry's advice was even asked was while they were browsing the bookshop.

"What..." the blond asked haltingly as Harry ran his fingers over the spines of several books. "What kind of books do you think a Muggle-born witch might like?"

Pausing in his browsing, Harry quirked an eyebrow, though he kept his head turned toward the shelf to conceal a knowing grin. "Any witch in particular?"

"No!" Draco answered a bit too loudly. "I was just curious about Muggle-borns in general."

"I don't know about everybody," Harry replied as he tried to keep an even tone while fighting back a wave of mirth. "Now, someone like Hermione would love to get their hands on some of the older wizarding histories, she's a bit of a buff."

"Right," came the nervous response. "Well I'm sure most witches would be, the smart ones anyway. Look, I'm going to buy a couple things, I'll be back in a minute."

Their purchases complete, the boys had spent the next day wrapping everything and were just now finishing in time to send their schoolmates gifts off by owl. Fingering Luna's, Harry couldn't help grin at the item he'd picked for her. He'd been in the kitchen helping Aunt Petunia wash the dishes when he'd picked up a fairly large metal colander. It was a stupid gift and normally he'd never have done anything like this but something about it just seemed right. He'd begged his aunt for the bowl and eventually gotten her permission to take it with a thorough cleaning. Now wrapped and shrunk, it was in the pile of gifts to be shipped off within the hour. The boys were carrying the packages downstairs when there was a knock at the door.

Moments later, Aunt Petunia entered the sitting room where the boys were putting their gifts around the tree. The man with her wasn't Severus, however, though his presence was familiar. The musty smell of old parchment beside a scent he'd first encountered at the London zoo, Announced to Harry that Remus Lupin had come for their long-overdue talk.

After a warm greeting and everyone finding a comfortable place to sit, Remus asked, "So, how's school, Harry?" The older man's voice sounded sincere but strained as well. It was like he had a lot on his mind and at least some of it unpleasant. His aura was a bit different to Harry's senses as well. Today the pattern of sparks more closely resembled Professor McGonagall's, but still differing in a way as well. Harry's study of it was cut short, however, by a polite cough from Remus.

"Oh, right," Harry said with a start. "School's fine except for those weird attacks. I'm in the top three of all my classmates and the the Hufflepuff team, the one I'm playing for, we won our first Quidditch match the other day." Frowning a bit, he went on, "You asked about Longbottom's invisibility cloak, we never got a chance to get a good look at it, unfortunately. He and I aren't getting along all that well right now and I don't know if anyone I know can get a chance to examine it. Why did you want to know about Neville's cloak so badly, anyway?"

Rustling cloth indicating Remus shifting uncomfortably, Harry perked his ears as the older man tried to explain. "Invisibility cloaks, most of them, are a fairly uncommon item. They are commonly made of woven Demiguise hair or spelled with Disillusionment or Bedazzling charms. Most aren't really all that effective and tend to fade in power over time. Your father had such a cloak, though it was different than any other I'd heard of before or since.

It had been handed down, father to son as far back as his family could remember. In all that time, the cloak never became weaker or less effective in hiding its wearer. The reactions of your friends that you relayed to me reminded me more of your father's cloak than of a standard one. When we packed your parents things away, I never saw it, most likely it's there and you've probably already found it and not known what it was."

"I'm sorry, what?" Petunia asked from her place in the doorway. "What about his parents things?"

"Their personal items; books, clothes, everything that wasn't destroyed in the explosion at Godric's Hollow. Neither of you went to look though them after Professor Dumbledore gave you the key?"

"What key?" Harry and Petunia asked in unison.

"The key to their property vault at the Ministry. Everything from the scene was collected and held until it could be picked up by Harry or his guardian. Professor Dumbledore should have given it to you when he left Harry."

"He never did anything of the kind," Petunia said with a tight voice, the one that boded ill for those who crossed her. "He didn't even drop Harry off in person, he left the boy on our doorstep in the middle of the night!"

Alarmed by her quickly rising anger, Remus was quick to add, "While uncommon, when a wizarding child is left in the care of Muggles, it's not unheard of for the Wizengamot's agent, in this case it was likely Professor Dumbledore himself, to hold it until the child reaches maturity."

"Let's," Harry said with a heavy sigh. "Let's not worry about it until after the Holidays. We could owl the ministry or just ask Professor Dumbledore when I get back to school. Anyway, you were going to tell me about my Mum and Dad's other friends at school."

"Right," Remus replied, sounding even more uncomfortable than before. "James and Lily had many friends back then though there was a core group of us that became more like family. Your mother seemed to get along with everybody but for the better part of her school career, she was best friends with Severus Snape."

"Did you know that Mum knew Severus, Aunt Petunia?" Harry asked, interrupting Remus' story.

Sounding a bit flustered, his aunt responded affirmatively. "I didn't, actually though mostly it's because I didn't recognise him. He used to come around the park Lily and I played with from about the time we were just turning nine. At the time, we didn't get along that well and I really only remember ever calling him 'that boy from Spinner's end. Why he never bought it up, I'm not sure but I think we'll be having a bit of a talk later."

Feeling a bit unnerved by his aunt's tone, Harry turned back to Remus, wanting to change the subject. "What about my dad? You were friends with him from the start, right?"

A wave of amusement rolled off Remus as he basked in happy memories. "Something like that," he said. "I met James on the train, we shared a compartment together. He and Sirius already knew each other, they'd been friends for quite a while. They acted so much alike, you'd swear they were brothers. The both of them were like puppies with a new toy, all energy and mischief. At the time, I, because of a condition I'd developed when I was younger, was a bit bookish and quiet. For some reason that I don't understand to this day, they adopted me into their group. Peter came to us half way through our trip. He ran into our compartment trying to hide from some older students that had been bullying him. When they found out what was going on, James and Sirius hid him in the luggage rack and bluffed the boys that came looking for him. From that point on, we slowly became closer and formed our own little group that we christened 'The Marauders.'"

"Your father and Sirius were the mad geniuses of our group. They thought that school, in and of itself, was far too boring for words. Therefore they took it on themselves to liven things up for everybody. They were natural pranksters, the both of them. One wild idea after another would seem to spring full blown from their heads that would involve mayhem or humiliation for some unlucky faculty member or student. The only problem was, they'd never consider how to make their plans work, that's where I came in.

"Peter and I were the practical side of the Marauders. When the other two would come up with a plan, I was best suited to do the research that made it work. Once we had everything in place, it was up to Peter to know where our target was to be found and when would be the perfect moment to spring it. He was our spy. He could move among all the houses, fairly unnoticed; people tended to simply overlook him, making him able to move about freely and warn us when we were in danger of being caught.

"For a better part of our school career, that's what we did. Though nobody ever knew that _we_ were the pranksters, the Marauders were considered a menace at first. By the time we'd reached our later years, however, we were almost sanctioned by the staff. We were, after all, a welcome distraction from the last great war."

"Voldemort," Harry muttered distastefully. "Is that what happened to them? Were they killed by him, like my parents?"

"Not exactly," Remus answered with a sad sigh, "though your parents death and their fate was tied together. You must understand what happened was and is a painful memory and I hate to dredge it up. Unfortunately, because of who you are, sooner or later in you school career it will come up as part of a history lesson. In fairness to you, I think it's best that what happened comes from me and not some dusty textbook.

"Late during the last war, You Know Who, for reasons nobody really understands, targeted your family in particular. To keep you all safe, Professor Dumbledore convinced them to go into hiding at one of the Potter family properties, a cottage in Godric's Hollow. To keep them hidden, James cast a protection spell called the Fidelius charm, on their home. It rendered the cottage unfindable except to their secret-keeper and whoever he told.

"James chose Sirius to be his secret-keeper and we all thought you'd be safe. Unfortunately, on Halloween that year, your parents were betrayed and killed when that traitor led the Dark Lord to your house."

"Black betrayed his best friend," Harry said hollowly. He could feel Draco tense up beside him, remembering as well what had happened just a year before.

"The next day, Peter somehow tracked Sirius to a neighbourhood in Muggle London. During their confrontation, Sirius cast a spell that not only killed Peter, it obliterated the street they were on and ended the lives of thirteen Muggles at the same time."

"Why..." Harry choked. "Why did he do it? How could he betray you all like that?"

"Honestly, I don't know. Sirius did come from a family steeped in the dark arts but he turned his back on them years ago. He was even disowned by his mother before we'd even finished school. After they finished their NEWTs, he and your father both applied to become Aurors, Wizarding police. Before that night, Sirius was the last person I would have thought capable of doing something like this. He was devoted not only to Lily and your father, he regarded you almost as his own son... James even..."

"He what?" Harry asked unevenly.

"James... Sirius Black is your Godfather."

The stillness following Remus' announcement was shattered when one of the vases on a nearby table suddenly exploded, sending glass, water and a very surprised bouquet of flowers into the air. Standing suddenly, Harry walked jerkily toward the staircase as dozens of small objects in the room began to rattle in place or leapt into the air and began to fly about like a swarm of angry hornets. In the sitting room, everyone sat looking uneasily at each other as Harry's door slammed and everything fell to the floor, returning the room to silence.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the dreadfully long wait, I've been giving my muse CPR and I think he's coming around now... The chapter would have been longer but I thought this was a good breaking point. 


	13. Diaries and Dilemmas

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, wish I did.

A/N: Sorry this isn't longer, my first draft is actually a thousand or so words longer but this is the perfect cutoff.

Chapter 13, Diaries and dilemmas

Standing outside Harry's room, a harried looking Severus Snape knocked yet again. "Harry, it's Professor Snape, please open the door." With no response to his third call, the frustrated potions master pulled his wand and intoned, "_Alohamora_." The lock clicked after a moments pause, though the door refused to budge when pushed. Putting his shoulder to it, Severus was able to force it open and see into Harry's room.

"Well," he said lightly. "If this is the state in which you keep your quarters at Hogwarts, I'll be having a word with Professor Flitwick."

Professor Snape regarded Harry from the across the wrecked room. The bed, desk, wardrobe and anything larger than a football was smashed and strewn about the floor haphazardly. Hedwig and Loki, both looking a bit flustered, flitted about the room as if they were afraid to land on anything that might suddenly explode. In the far corner, Harry sat amongst the rubble, looking physically and emotionally drained. Using his wand to clear a path, the professor made his way across the room and sat down beside his student, patiently waiting for him to speak, it wasn't long in coming.

"My father's best friend betrayed them to Voldemort," Harry croaked in a weak voice. "Not that I should expect any different, really. What with the crap Draco pulled last year and now Neville... I'm beginning to think friendship really doesn't mean that much to anybody."

Arching an eyebrow, Severus leaned back against the wall and said, "I see your point. Not fifteen minutes ago, Young Draco came bursting into my potions lab, nearly hysterical. It seems that he'd run all the way from here after you began... remodeling and wouldn't answer anyone's calls. Draco was so affected by your outburst he never even thought to use the floo, he ran through nearly a foot of snow without a coat and in his stocking feet. After gasping out what happened, the boy collapsed and I had to leave him lying on the couch in my office. Hardly the act of a concerned friend."

A flush of embarrassment appeared on Harry's cheeks and he asked, "He's alright, then?"

"I cast a charm to dry his clothes and warm him up before I left, The question I have is, how are you?"

"Angry... confused I guess... I mean I do trust Draco, he 's changed so much since last year. The whole thing with Black just – I guess it's really messing with my head. He was so close to my parents yet he helped murder them."

"I must admit," Snape conceded. "I was more than a little shocked when I found out it was him betrayed them. Though he was a bully and thoughtlessly cruel at times, he always seemed devoted to them. He followed your father around like some damned puppy at school."

"That's what I don't get," growled Harry. "How could he do it? Was it for money, power, revenge or something?"

"The black family is an ancient house with strong ties to the dark arts," the professor explained thoughtfully. "I was made to understand he was cast out for turning his back on them, his betrayal may have been an attempt to regain his families good graces. There is also the possibility that Black was dark all along and fooling everyone. I sincerely doubt it, however, to me it never seemed like he'd have the native intelligence to pull it off."

"Was he ever asked?" Harry questioned, his anger rising again. "When he was arrested or during his trial, did they ask him why he did it? I want to know what he thought was proper payment for my parent's lives."

"Things happened rather quickly in the confusion after the Dark Lord's fall," Severus answered in a calming tone. "By the time I heard of Black's arrest, he was already in Azkaban. That would mean he was either tried immediately upon his apprehension or by secret tribunal at a later date. I would assume the former as the Prophet proclaimed both his crime and sentence the next day."

As Severus spoke, the look of raw anger on Harry's face began to be replaced with determination. "How would I go about finding out what was said at the trial; does the ministry keep transcripts of its trials or some other record?"

"I'd have to speak with Petunia about retaining a solicitor," he replied after a short pause. "Being the victim, you have certain rights concerning disclosure but with the ministry it's best to have a professional handling it."

Harry slumped back against the wall as the tension visibly drained from his frame. "Thanks Severus," he said with a sigh. "I guess it must seem ridiculous but I have to know."

"It's no matter," the potions master replied with a rare grin. "I admit to a bit of curiosity myself. There's no doubt in my mind that Black is capable of murder but I never thought him bright enough to fool all his friends for so long. I'd be interested to find out his reasons as well." Standing and adjusting his robes, he added, "now that we have that all sorted out, perhaps you should go downstairs and let your aunt know that everything is alright. She seemed quiet upset when I arrived."

I guess that is my fault for the most part," Harry admitted sheepishly. "I didn't take this whole thing with Black very well. Then again, she was already a bit upset herself after finding out you knew her and mum when you were all kids and never said anything about it when she didn't recognize you."

There was a pregnant pause and Severus actually held his breath for a moment after hearing Harry's statement. "Perhaps," he said finally, "we should stay up here a bit longer and put your room to rights... we wouldn't want her any angrier over a bit of broken furniture."

"Right," Harry answered with a tired grin. "You want me to hold onto your wand when we go down?"

Christmas came and a sense of normalcy returned to the house. Dudley, while still overly excitable, had matured a great deal in his first term. He only bounced on Harry's bed for five minutes trying to wake his 'brother' up. Severus and Petunia had their discussion and neither party required medical attention. Harry received gifts from family and friends, the most original coming from Luna; it was being with his family, however that he considered the greatest gift of all.

The one big shock came on New Years. Professor Snape presented Petunia with a simple silver band and asked permission to begin formally courting her. Aunt Petunia looked shell shocked and with a slight tremor in her voice, accepted wholeheartedly. Harry and Draco were both thrilled that the adults were finally going forward though Dudley seemed a bit put off by it. The holiday went on, however, and they soon found themselves making the walk back up to the castle.

Classes resumed the next day and their schedule returned to normal. Harry was still spending most of his free time buried in his book, much to the annoyance of his friends. Two weeks into the new term, Draco found him sitting over it in the Great Hall, busily reading with a frustrated expression, his meal forgotten.

"What's wrong?" The blond asked as he sat down across from his friend.

"I don't think it's in here," Harry grumbled as he turned another page. "This is my third time through the book and I still haven't found anything like the snake we're looking for." He was about to turn the page again when Draco lay his hand on the book.

"What was the name of that creature Lovegood was going on about?"

"A Ksilisab," Harry replied. "I haven't found any mention of it in all the books I've looked in, why?"

"There's no way you could know this but Lovegood reads that rag her father puts out upside down... that means," he smirked triumphantly as he tapped the page. "everything is backwards."

"Back..." Harry murmured as his hand ran over the page. "Basilisk... well, that explains Luna's Christmas gift; I'll have to owl Aunt Petunia and tell her not to expect eggs any time soon. I've read through this entry it really doesn't match our monster. They have a really poisonous bite and can kill you outright with a look but they don't pet... damn," he muttered as his hand reached the end of the page. "it's in a footnote, '_The basilisk's deadly gaze , when viewed indirectly or through a reflective surface, has been known to result in petrification rather than immediate death.'_

"What do we do now?"

"We'll take it to Severus," Harry replied as he closed the book. "I doubt the headmaster would take us seriously. We should probably try and figure out where the chamber is as well."

"Where would we even –"

Draco's words were cut off by a small commotion that rippled through the Great Hall. Harry could feel Aunt Petunia and someone else, an unfamiliar wizard enter and make their way toward the head table.

"She looks mad," Draco whispered in excited anticipation. "This should be good."

True to form, Petunia began dressing down Professor Dumbledore in front of the students and faculty. Not close enough to hear exactly what was said, Harry could still tell she was at top form, only pausing to allow her companion to make the occasional quiet contribution. Everyone straining to hear groaned in disappointment as the headmaster stood up.

"They're leaving," Draco whined. "Just as it looked like it was getting good. I bet they're all going up to his office." A moment later he snickered and nudged his friend. "Dumbledore just passed his wand off to Professor McGonagall.

Echoing Draco's grin, Harry added wistfully, "I wish I was going with them."

"You may get your chance, Professor Flitwick is headed this way."

Just as Draco said, the charms master scooted up to the table and addressed Harry. "The headmaster has asked if you'd join him and your aunt in his office."

Nodding happily, Harry got up and grabbed his bag, promising Draco that he'd fill him in on everything that went on later. Together, he and Professor Flitwick made their way to the headmaster's office where Petunia and the other wizard were already in a heated discussion with Professor Dumbledore. Professor Flitwick's knock ended the adults argument and he was bid, enter.

Harry stiffened on stepping through the door, tension was palpable in the room even without the aid of his senses. Allowing himself to be guided to a comfortable chair, he sat and cocked his head in silent question. Present in the room was Professor Dumbledore, Aunt Petunia, the yet unnamed wizard along with Professors Flitwick and Snape. Apparently wanting to take charge of the meeting, the headmaster was first to speak.

"Good afternoon Harry. As you might be aware, your aunt and her companion have come today to clear up a few small matters and requested you be present as well. I'd fully understand if you'd rather not be bothered."

"I assume you're talking about my parent's things," Harry answered tightly. "Remus said everything was packed up after Voldemort's attack and you took charge of it."

"Eleven years," Petunia snarled accusingly. "All that time and you never saw fit to turn it over to us or even admit it exists!"

"Petunia, Harry," the headmaster pleaded. "You have to understand, we were reeling, not only from Lily and James death but the upheaval created by Voldemort's fall. I had originally planned to come with the key to the ministry vault a few weeks after Harry had been placed. After seeing the difficulty you and you husband were both having with Harry's magical nature, I decided it best to simply wait until he reached his majority and present it to Harry himself."

"Wait," Harry broke in, sounding even more annoyed than before. "You knew... All along you knew what my aunt and uncle were like before the accident and you did nothing. Why not send somebody to talk with them, maybe help Aunt Petunia deal with Mum's death? You know she had to be an emotional wreck but you thrust an infant on her with nothing but a note for explanation. To me, it looks like you cared more for my parents things than you did either of us."

Rocked by Harry's words, Dumbledore seemed to deflate in his chair. Likewise, reminded of her early behavior toward Harry, Petunia had the grace to look ashamed.

"All that being said," Harry continued. "Is there any good reason you haven't given me the key since I started school?"

"As I'd said before, I was planning on delivering this to you on your majority." Reaching into his desk, the headmaster dug around a bit before coming up with a simple silver key. "Here we are, the key to ministry property vault 767. I do hope you'd consider waiting until summer break to sort through it," Dumbledore added in a concerned tone as he placed the key in Harry's hand. "There might be sensitive papers or spell books that could be dangerous to someone at your level. I'd like to be there to help you separate inappropriate materials and perhaps take charge of them until you were more prepared."

"I hardly think Lily or her husband would have left such things just lying around," growled Petunia angrily. "I also see no reason to have you there. Severus has already volunteered to help us sort through everything and identify anything to boys might be unready to use unsupervised."

"I also need to check on something of my father's," Harry interjected. "It's a Potter family heirloom that Remus Lupin thinks may have been misplaced, my dad's invisibility cloak."

"His... you won't find his cloak among their things, I'm afraid," said the headmaster weakly. "Your father left it in my care shortly before the attacks so that I might study it."

"You do have it then," Harry said quickly as he felt Remus' suspicions becoming reality. "I'd like to have it back now, please."

Sounding more and more uneasy, Dumbledore answered, "There may be a bit of a problem with that."

"Surely you're not refusing to return a Potter family artifact," said the wizard that accompanied Petunia to the school. "The Goblin pacts of 834 clearly state that Heredity property cannot be withheld from its designated recipient except when said person is a minor, and only then by their legal guardian. You, Mr Dumbledore, are of no relationship to Mr Potter, nor are there any papers granting you guardianship or control of the Potter estates in their stead. As Mrs Dursley and Mr Potter's solicitor, I must advise you to return said proper immediately or a complaint will be filed before the Wizengamot in the morning. You are aware, involvement in any legal action will require you to be suspended from your post as chief warlock. If found guilty, you'll be permanently removed from the body."

Peering over his spectacles with a frown, the headmaster asked, "and you are?"

"Smythe, Wesley Smythe, Barrister for magical and muggle law since 1953," he said, proffering Professor Dumbledore his card. "I've been retained by my clients to look into the chain of custody regarding the management of Potter family properties since the attack on 31st October, 1981. Now, about the cloak?"

Professor Dumbledore studied the card handed to him for a long moment before looking up with a resigned expression. "Of course, you're right. I don't have the cloak with me at the moment but I can have it here first thing in the morning. Would that be sufficient?"

"Neville has it, doesn't he?"

Though softly stated, Harry's question caused the headmaster to flinch as though he'd been slapped. While his expression was lost on Harry his guilt was broadcast to everyone else.

"You gave away Harry's cloak?" Petunia screeched, her face nearly purple in anger. "Lupin said it was a family heirloom, what gave you the right?"

"Please calm yourself," the headmaster said in a tone that sounded scandalized. "It wasn't actually given to Mr Longbottom, merely loaned for a time. There is no harm done, really."

"He got it as a present for Christmas," Harry insisted. "The note was read to me. You left my cloak to Neville as a gift."

"Professor Dumbledore," interjected Smythe, his patience clearly gone. "In light of this development, and the fact that the cloak does appear to still be on school property, I'll have to ask you to retrieve it now. Otherwise, we'll be forced to contact the DMLE."

Defeated, Professor Dumbledore tiredly picked up a small bell on his desk and rang it. Immediately, a house elf appeared and bowed to the headmaster.

"You needed Dizzy, Mr. Dumbles sir?"

"Yes," he replied. "I need you to find Professor McGonagall, ask her to locate Mr Longbottom. They should both come to my office with the cloak he received Christmas last."

After the house elf popped out, Harry sat back while Petunia and Mr Smythe began grilling the headmaster over what else he might have taken upon him self to do in regards to Harry's property. Off to the side, he could feel professor Flitwick's disappointment and I bit of anger directed at Professor Dumbledore. Of Professor Snape, Harry could feel nothing. He suspected, however, there would be another confrontation in the office after he and his aunt left. Another ten minutes of arguing went on before it was interrupted by a knock on the door.

Harry frowned as the two entered. Professor McGonagall was her normal self, a powerful swirl of sparks with a feline shape super-imposed. Neville, on the other hand, was nearly unrecognizable. All of his sparks, both the ones Harry had come to recognize as related to physical health and of magical strength were significantly dimmer and less energetic than he'd sensed from the other boy just before Christmas. From Aunt Petunia's quiet gasp, whatever was wrong with Longbottom must also be quite visible.

"Are you alright, boy?" she asked, rising from her chair.

"M' fine," he slurred. "Just coming down with something, I think."

"Could we hurry this along, Albus?" Professor McGonagall asked. "I'd like to get Mr Longbottom over to the Hospital Wing."

"Of course," the headmaster said, sounding a bit distracted. "Neville, I'm sorry but it seems that a mistake was made when you received the invisibility cloak. It turns out that it actually belongs to Harry's family."

"What? No," Neville exclaimed weakly, finally animated by his upset. "You gave it to me; you said it was mine!"

"I know and I'm sorry, Mr Potter is quite adamant that it be returned to him."

Harry could feel Neville's baleful gaze on him, though the other boy's anger felt half-hearted at best.

"Is this how you're trying to get back at me, Potter?" he hissed unsteadily. "You've been jealous of me ever since I stopped Professor Quirrell stealing that stone. Now you're taking away the gift that Al... that Professor Dumbledore gave me." Neville staggered forward two steps before collapsing. The folded cloak fell from his nerveless fingers as he passed out.

The first to react, Harry leaped. Forward, pulling out his wand to do a diagnostic spell even as the headmaster flooed the Hospital Wing. Professor McGonagall, stirred from her shock, transfigured one of the chairs into a couch and stood back as Professor Flitwick levitated Neville onto it without disturbing Harry in the process. Reaching into his satchel, Professor Snape pulled out a calming drought and handed it to Harry.

"The boy is distraught. Give him this, It'll help."

While carefully administering the potion to his semi-conscious patient, Harry tilted his head in Professor Mcgonagall's direction. "When you found him, was Neville practicing any difficult spells?"

"No," she replied. "He was in the Merlin commons, fast asleep against young Miss Weasley as she read, why?"

"The diagnostic spell I used says he's suffering from Magical and physical exhaustion. Do you know if he's been sleeping alright?"

Professor McGonagall started to answer but was interrupted as Madam Pomfrey came through the floo. The medi-witch took Harry's report as she cast her own diagnostic spells and clucking about students working themselves too hard. Levitating the boy, couch and all, she marched out the door, on her way to the Infirmary. Harry made to follow but was stopped by Professor Dumbledore.

"I think Poppy has things well in hand, why don't you escort your aunt and her guest to the Entry Hall."

"But-"

"Thank you, Mr Potter," Dumbledore said, thrusting the cloak into Harry's hands. "You've done quite enough for today." Unbelievably, he had the nerve to sound disappointed.

Freshly enraged, Harry held his tongue till they'd reached the corridor along with Professor Flitwick. Severus and Professor McGonagall had accompanied the headmaster to the Hospital wing.

"How dare he," Harry growled, his tone reminiscent of Aunt Petunias. "He just tried to make me feel like that was my fault... that bas-"

"Harry!" Professor Flitwick barked. "I understand your upset but it isn't proper to disrespect your elders. I'll have to ask you not to use those words to describe the headmaster... in my presence," he added with a wink before leaving them all to find their way out.

"Mr Potter," Smythe began respectfully when the three of them were alone. "Allow me to properly introduce myself," he said, taking Harry's hand. "Wesley Smythe, your Aunt hired me on to look into the disposition of your parents things. She says that theres something else you needed as well?"

"Yes," he answered quietly. "The trial of Sirius Black. I want a copy of the transcripts and any statement he may have made before or after. Theres too much to explain, but I need to know why he betrayed my parents."

"Right," Wesley said uncomfortably. "I'll see what I can dig up. A bit of a warning, however, It's likely to take a bit of time, the bureaucracy is notorious for moving at a crawl."

Saying their goodbyes in the Entry Hall, Smythe and Petunia began their trek toward Hogsmeade while Harry went to find his friends. They had a lot of work ahead of them. The following weeks were hectic for Harry as they weren't only doing their school work, but also trying to come up with decent defensive plans without help from the staff.

They'd gone to Severus with their belief about the basilisk, convincing him that it was a real possibility. He, in turn, had taken it to the headmaster, returning hours later, furious. Having been told of the potion master's suspicions, Dumbledore had been completely unsurprised and apathetic about it. He proposed no plan of action beyond asking for more strict enforcement of the curfew and that no student travel the corridors alone.

"He's got to be doing something else," Harry demanded as he paced around Severus' quarters. "What about getting more roosters or bringing in Aurors to patrol the halls... I really don't get him!"

"The headmaster seems to think we'd be best served to locate the Chamber of Secrets before confronting the beast," Severus said with a scowl. He says we have to remove its avenue of escape and preferably capture the heir if we want to even have a chance against it."

"So we do nothing?"

"No," Severus corrected. "The headmaster has forbid the staff from assisting any of you researching basilisks to keep the students from trying something foolish. There's nothing to keep you from doing it yourselves."

The next weeks were odd but busy for Harry. Curfew had been moved back to sunset and the prefects now roamed the halls in groups of three. There hadn't been another attack since before Christmas and some of the student body was beginning to relax a bit, not Harry's crowd. The study group had begun to grow again as word got out about the basilisk and how they were looking for ways to defend against it. The workload and seriousness of the situation made Harry all business. He was shaken out of it one morning, mid February, when he walked into the great Hall with Terry.

A wave of magic had him instinctively shutting his inner eye as the sound of chaos washed over him. There were multiple serenades going on at once and several harps were being played, each with a different tune. At the same time, the student body was either protesting whatever was going on or sighing and tittering to each other.

"Is it as bad as it sounds?" Harry asked over the sound of a dozen crooning cherubs.

"Worse," Terry moaned as he pulled his friend toward the Merlin table. The hall was filled with pink streamers and floating hearts; better than half of them had Lockhart's picture on them. "You should see Lockhart at the head table, he's sitting there waving to everybody like he's the bloody king."

"Ponce."

"I don't know what it is," Draco said as he made room for them at the table. "Something about today just makes girls all lose their minds."

"I don't think today is any different," proclaimed Luna the stuffed rooster on her hat gave Draco a baleful glare and clucked in warning.

"Apologies, Lady Lovegood," Draco said bowing his head to her mirthfully. "A day like this would affect you least of all."

"Hello Harry."

Paying attention to his friends and distracted by the din, Harry missed the approach of Ginny Weasley until she spoke into his ear.

"Ginny," he responded blandly after an initial start. "How's Neville today? Where is he? You two are usually joined at the hip."

"We had a bit of a row," she explained, boldly sitting down between him and Draco. "I think we got off on the wrong foot and was hoping we could get together sometime soon to... talk."

Getting a weird feeling from the redhead and her sudden turn around, Harry gracefully declined. "Some other time, maybe."

"Ginny!"

Spinning around, she growled at an angry looking Neville as he approached. "What?"

Neville appeared much recovered from the day in Dumbledore's office. While still worn, the time under the healer had allowed him to recoup. His attitude, however, was less than sparkling.

"Come on," he said tersely, taking her almost roughly by the arm. "We're leaving. As for you, Potter," he snarled. ""You'll stay away from her if you know what's good for you."

"Longbottom-" Draco said in warning as he stood up, only to be cut off again by Neville as he pulled Ginny away.

"You heard me, stay away."

The Merlins watched in varying levels of shock at the two's odd behavior. "There's something really wrong with Neville," Terry said quietly, a good portion of the table nodded in agreement.

"The problem is, nobody knows what exactly what's wrong," Harry replied, echoing everyone's concern. "Madam Pomfrey is stumped, all his tests show is magical exhaustion and nothing he does accounts for it." Everyone talked about it for a bit more before packing up and heading to class.

Harry's day went by quickly and he was never happier not to have defense. Spending that period with Madam Pomfrey and her endless medical tomes was more than a fare trade to spending even a minute in that idiot's class. He was so wrapped up in his studies that he missed the last bell and had to be interrupted by Draco and Terry barging in to look for him.

"Come on, Harry, class is over," Daco whined as he pulled the quill out of his friend's hand. "Let's go, I want to drop my books off at the dorms before we eat."

His Ravenclaw side firmly in control, Harry grumbled that he wasn't finished. His friends dragged him away, regardless of his protests as the medi-witch watched them leave with silent approval. Making quick time, they go to the dungeons and dropped Draco's books on his bed before heading back toward the Great Hall. They hadn't made it out of the dungeons, however, when Harry's foot splashed in water and they heard terrible wailing ahead.

"Is it the basilisk?" Terry asked nervously, they'd all drawn their wands at this point.

"I don't think so," Harry replied quietly. "I can't hear it hissing."

"It's Myrtle," Draco said, sounding oddly concerned as he began moving quickly toward the nearby girls bathroom. "She sounds more upset than usual."

Entering, they found the room flooded. All the taps were open and the sinks stopped up. Myrtle herself was flitting about the room carrying on horribly.

"Myrtle... Myrtle!" Draco called, eventually getting her attention. "What's wrong?"

"Drake?" she asked, blinking at him, distracted from her tantrum. "Oh, Drake," she cried. "It was horrible"

"Drake?" Harry and Terry whispered to each other in disbelief. Harry was suddenly sorry he'd missed coming down for Draco's chats with the ghost.

"I was minding my own business in the U-bend and somebody dropped a book on my head!"

"A book..." Draco repeated, sounding a little annoyed but covered quickly. "How rude! Did you see who did it?"

"No," she sighed wistfully. "By the time I'd come out of the stall, they were already gone. I guess I really should expect it though. Nobody cares about Myrtle, Let's go throw books at Myrtle, she can't stop us... she's DEAD! Ten points if you can get her between the eyes!"

While Draco went about trying to calm the ghost, Terry returned with a sodden book. "I found it, he said. "It's a little wet but okay otherwise."

"What? Now you're going to throw it at me too?" Myrtle became completely inconsolable at that point and flew about the room, wailing loudly. Unable to stand the noise any longer, the boys ran from the bathroom, into the corridor.

"All that over a stupid book," Terry said with disgust. "She's loony!"

"She is not," Draco said defensively. "Myrtle just doesn't get to socialize much, it's made her kind of twitchy... what?" he asked as the other two boys wiped disbelieving looks from their faces.

"Let me see," Harry requested, holding out his hand. Taking the sodden tome in his hands, Harry explored the cover with his fingertips. It was bound in leather, good quality, with the lining hand stitched inside. The pages were paper, not the rougher texture of parchment. He could also tell it was enchanted, the pages were drying quickly, even as he held it. The book's aura was also highly magical and oddly familiar, in fact, if he hadn't known better, he'd of thought it was a person in front of him instead of an object.

Intrigued, he asked, "You mind if I hold on to this?"

Neither of his friends objecting, Harry slipped the book into his bottomless bag and they were on their way.

Things quickly fell back into routine. Classes, their study group and training with the custodians filled their days. They'd decided on a possible quick defense against the basilisk based on some of the spells used in Harry's duel. Nobody knew if it would work but it was a start and they all went about learning two fairly difficult spells.

The time he spent with Madam Pomfrey had become his favorite and he was beginning to think that there was a possible future for him as a healer. The medi-witch had already offered to sponsor him if he decided to study medicine after Hogwarts. His days were full and he'd almost forgotten the book they'd found until he pulled it out of his bag one day in the Merlin Common room

At first, it seemed like nothing more than an empty journal. The only writing on it was a Muggle address, likely the bookseller, and the initials, TMR. Harry assumed TMR must be the journal's owner. Though why someone would try flushing an empty journal was beyond him, he became more convinced that there must be something hidden in it, though how still eluded him.

On a whim, Harry picked up his dicto-quill and opened it to the first page. "I am Harry James Potter," he said, waiting for it to copy his words to paper.

He could see the magical ink sparkling in before his mind's eye, though it quickly faded away. Now thinking the journal must be some prank item, he was about to set it aside when new writing appeared in an unfamiliar hand.

'Hello Harry, my name is Tom.'

* * *

Thanks to all my reviewers, a special shout out to Calitath, Loved your review of the duelling club:)

Read and Review, it makes me write a little bit faster.


	14. Guilty Until Proven

Sorry I've been away so long, I've got a mean World of Warcraft addiction I'm trying to deal with and I just wanted to put something out so you know I'm still alive. This is unedited (not used to how the site has changed) so it will be cleaned up shortly. This was actually the first part of chapter 14, but like I said, I wanted to put something out.

**Chapter 14, Guilty until Proven**

"Hello Harry, My name is Tom."

Harry sat back with a thoughtful expression. He'd never heard of a talking book before; then again, until last year, no one could have convinced him there was such a thing as a talking hat.

Leaning forward again, he allowed the dicto-quill to continue translating his words. "Hello Tom, what are you?"

"I'm the memory of a student that attended Hogwarts many years ago. I am an echo of who he was, including his memories and feelings."

"You're like one of the talking portraits, then."

"...Something like that, yes,"

Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Harry asked, "You said that you were written a long time ago, maybe around when the Chamber of secrets was opened last? Do you know anything about it?"

The quill finished writing out what he'd said and its script vanished into the page. Long moments passed, then in glowing letters, the diary formed its response.

"I was. My maker was very worried that the school might be closed down because the attacks. Someone claiming to be Slytherin's heir opened the chamber and supposedly set the creature living ther on the muggle-born students. This went on throughout the school year, ending when the final victim was killed by it. Hogwarts was very nearly closed after that but someone was caught and was thought to be behind the attacks. After he was removed from the school, the creature ceased its attacks and the school was allowed to remain open."

"You know who it was, then," Harry said aloud while the quill dutifully copied his words to the page. "The person who was expelled, was he the heir? Who was he and what happened to him; you have to tell me."

"I could tell you," the book answered. But it would be so much easier to show you instead."

Before Harry could even react, a plume of sparks shot from the page, enveloping his senses. Moments later, he found himself standing in the headmaster's office. At first he didn't recognize it. He was used to the shimmering walls of sparks broken up by the portraits lining the walls. What he saw now was something he'd only experienced once since the accident and that had only been a fleeting moment.

Harry found himself seeing the room as if his natural sight still worked. The room was brightly lit and yet cozy. Books lined the shelves and a magnificent desk sat at one side with a balding, somewhat silly looking man behind it. It wasn't Professor Dumbledore, though that should be no surprise if this was indeed a memory from fifty years before. The headmaster was busily scribbling on a scroll, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door. Covering pictures he'd been drawing, they looked like badly drawn bunnies, with another piece of parchment, he called for the unknown party to enter.

The door opened, revealing a young man with dark hair, wearing a Slytherin badge. "You wished to see me, Professor Dippett?"

"Ah yes," the old wizard answered. "Come in, Mr Riddle. I have the letter you sent me right here. You've requested to stay at the school over summer holidays."

"Yes sir, I'm an orphan. I have no family to call my own and the muggle orphanage I stay at... things aren't exactly good for me there. Everybody knows I'm different somehow, they – "

Opening a file on his desk, Professor Dippett began reading aloud. "Tom Marvolo Riddle, Wizard of mixed parentage, orphaned. You're a sixth year Slytherin prefect and at the top of your class." Rifling through the parchment, the headmaster droned on. "You've no marks against you, disciplinary or in your assessments and Horace has only good things to say about you. During summer breaks, you stay at the Stockwell orphanage, on Vauxhall road in London." Closing the file, Professor Dippet rested his elbows on the desk and clasped his hands.

"Policy set by the board of governors is quite specific, I'm afraid. No student can reside in the castle outside the school term."

"But..."

"I do sympathize with your dilemma, were it my choice, I'd allow you to stay. My hands are tied, however, by laws dating back to the founders time. As a wizard of mixed parentage, I can't even try placing you with a proper family so long as you have residence in the muggle world. I'm sorry, my boy, but I'm afraid you'll have to return to Stockwell once the term ends." Nodding slowly, a series of emotions crossed the young man's face though Harry, being out of practice at such things, was at a loss to decipher them. Without another word, Tom left the office and it faded away to be replaced by a school corridor.

Tom stood anxiously at the head of a flight of stairs, watching a procession of six wizards as they came from the shadows. Moving carefully they carried a draped bundle that could only be a body. Behind them, Professor Dippet and another wizard, who looked much more like Professor Dumbledore's Chocolate Frog card, followed along with serious expressions. Dumbledore stopped as the procession passed, his sorrowful gaze lingering on the draped figure before facing Tom fully.

"All students are supposed to be in their dorms, Mr Riddle. The corridors of Hogwarts are not safe to travel alone."

Looking more than a bit anxious, Tom replied. "I'm sorry, sir. I had to know, is it true? Will they be closing the school?"

Again letting his gaze wander to the retreating backs of his colleagues, the professor quietly answered. "I'm afraid that it is inevitable now. With a student's death, the Board of Governors will demand it, at very least until an inquiry is finished."

"What if... What if the attacks were stopped?"

Turning with an unreadable expression to face Tom, Dumbledore said, "If the attacks stopped, the governors might be persuaded to keep the school open... Nothing short of Locating the perpetrator of these acts would convince them of that, however... Is there something you want to tell me, Tom?"

All emotion draining from his face, the Slytherin shook his head, slightly and answered, "No sir, thank you," before hurrying away.

Dumbledore continued to stare pensively after the retreating boy as the scene faded around Harry. It was replaced by a dank dungeon corridor, dimly lit by torches. At the far end, light spilled from an open doorway and the sounds of movement could be heard inside. It was toward this room that Harry watched Tom make his way silently. Upon reaching the doorway, his wand lit up and he boldly stepped inside.

"What do you have there, Hagrid?"

A startled yelp, sounding more like the grunt of a wounded bear, greeted Harry's ears as he hurried to see what was going on. Inside, Hagrid was standing in front of a table, trying to block Tom's view of a box that sat atop it. "I got nothin here, Riddle," the half giant answered anxiously. "Just go on about your business, I aint done nothin."

"You're a horrible liar, Hagrid," said Tom as he tried to work his way around for a clear view at the box. "I know what you have there, It's responsible for the attacks... You'll be expelled for this."

"Aragog wudn't hurt a fly!" Hagrid roared, keeping himself between Tom and his pet. "You know that!"

"I know," Tom said with a grim tone, "that You've been harboring a rare dark creature for the better part of a year. Who's to know what abilities it has, unfortunately I'll have to kill it now just to be safe and we'll never know for sure what It could do when it was alive." Saying that he raised his wand and cast, "_Arania Exumai!_"

The spell was aimed at the box but Hagrid jumped to throw off Tom's aim, sending the Slytherin crashing against the wall with bone jarring force. "Run, Aragog," Hagrid yelled as he blocked another spell from an obviously injured Tom.

Something large and many-legged hopped from the box, skittering left and right to avoid the wildly cast spells as it darted down the corridor and into the darkness. "You'll be expelled for sure over this," growled tom as he gingerly climbed back to his feet. And that thing will be hunted down and killed, as it deserves." The superior and satisfied expression on Tom's face was the last thing he saw before darkness overwhelmed him again and Harry found himself back in the Merlin common room holding the diary in a tight grip.

Sagging back into his chair, Harry couldn't help feel a little disappointed in losing the second hand use of his eyes, not to mention that he felt a bit drained by the whole experience. He was so disoriented that he missed, at first, the people yelling in his ear.

"Harry," Draco called, giving his friend a good shake. "Snap out of it, you've been just sitting and holding that book for a half hour."

With a shake of his head, Harry ordered his thoughts and opened his senses to the world around him. Sitting at the table with him, Draco, Terry and Luna all sat with sparks of anxiety flowing through their auras. "Sorry about that," Harry reassured them. "I've figured out how the diary works."

"That's why you've been sitting here like a lump?," Draco asked hotly. "The others were getting panicky and I was about to send for Professor Snape!"

"I'm fine, the diary is magical, it's enchanted something like the portraits. It responds when you write in it. According to what it said, it's the creation of a boy named Tom Riddle, made more than fifty years ago. He said he new who the heir was and that he'd show me. Before I knew what was happening, I was sucked into the book, or at least it seemed like it. I watched Tom talking with the headmaster then confront _Hagrid_, of all people. He was keeping some insect, a spider, I think, and Tom claimed that it was the creature that was attacking students.

The most incredible thing was, I saw it through normal eyes! It was incredible, everything was so crisp and clear, the colors were incredible. I've forgotten how beautiful even the simple things can be, I can't wait to go back and see if there's anything I missed..." Harry trailed off, idly stroking the book with one hand.

"But?"

"What?" Harry asked distractedly.

"You said you wanted to go back into the diary," Draco answered. "There was a 'but' in your tone, though."

"Oh," he answered, still not fully paying attention to the others. "It lied to me."

"It lied, you mean the memory it showed you was false. We all kind of figured that out, it's impossible for Hagrid to have been the heir."

"It's not that at all," Harry answered, his full attention finally pulled away from the book. "Everything I saw happened, I'm sure of that somehow. It was just shown to me in a way that made Hagrid look guilty and it was trying to convince me."

"I guess it could look like that," Terry put in. "It's impossible though. You said this Tom person was a student when he made the diary; portraits are some of the most complex enchanted objected that can be created and even they can't really lie, not convincingly. It's just beyond their ability. If anything, this Tom Riddle bloke, who made the diary, just put in a false memory."

"I guess you're right," Harry conceded. "We'll give the book to Severus in a couple of days, first I want to look at the memory again and perhaps talk to Hagrid."

"Harry,"

"Along with you lot, of course," he corrected himself as he placed the diary in his bag. "I'll keep it in my trunk for safe keeping and try to get down to Hagrid's hut before Easter holidays start."

Unnoticed by any of them, Ginny and Neville sat a few tables away, one with a fearful expression, the other with a look of dark hunger. The two quarreled quietly before slipping away and out of the common area, barely acknowledging Professor Snape and his guest as they rushed past.

Muttering to himself about rude children, the professor approached Harry's group and signaled his presence with a quiet cough.

"Good afternoon, Professor," Harry said quickly as he closed his bag. "You as well, Mr Smythe. What brings you back so soon, did you find anything?"

"Indeed I did, Mr Potter," Wesley answered. "I think, though, It would be best discussed in private."

"Of course, sir," Harry answered with a nod. "If it's alright, I'd like Draco along as well. He's fully aware of everything that's happened up to now."

"That's perfectly fine. Your office, perhaps, Severus?"

"Indeed," the potions master answered, some tension apparent in his voice. "This way." Their trip to the dungeons was made quickly, though Professor Snape's agitation fueled Harry's curiosity and made it seem forever. Finally they'd arrived and everyone was seated, Mr Smythe began.

"As you remember, I sent several missives to the ministry in regards to Sirius Black and his trial for you parent's deaths. After quite a bit of stalling on their part, they admitted that transcripts of it do not exist. I then asked for a copy of the ruling and sentence, as imprisonment at Azkaban should be impossible without it."

"I hear an exception in the word _should_."

"Sharp ear, my boy. Perhaps you should consider law as a profession after you finish school. I have a colleague in New York, in fact, Mathew Murdo-"

"Please, sir," Harry interrupted. "You're stalling."

"Er, yes, sorry. Exceptional ear, you have; As to Mr Black, he's been 'detained' at Azkaban since your parents deaths without proper trial or sentencing."

"While an obvious legal blunder, one that could get him released, It's better than what he deserves after what he did to Lily," growled Snape from behind his desk.

"It also still doesn't answer my biggest question... Why he did it." Harry complained angrily.

"I thought you might feel that way," Wesley answered quickly. I've requested a visit with him as your solicitor. The owl came back just today, It's scheduled Tuesday, two weeks hence."

"That's after holidays start," Harry murmured to himself. Louder, he added, "I'm going as well."

"Absolutely not!" Snape shouted. "Even in Azkaban, the man is dangerous!"

"I'd have you there as well, if you'd come." Harry wheedled softly. "I trust you to protect me."

"And Petunia as well, I'd expect," the potion's master sneered, not sounding at all convinced.

"No!" Harry snorted. "I don't want him dead before I can get my answers." he added with a tight grin.

"Just Mr Smythe, you and I."

"And me, as well," answered Draco forcefully. "I'm going too."

"I think not, Mr Malfoy," Snape growled again, sounding even more angry than before. "Even if I allowed Harry to go, which won't happen, there's no cause for your presence."

"I'm Heir Regent."

A gusty sigh from Mr Smythe caught Harry's attention. "Heir Regent? What's that?"

"Heir regent is the last surviving male member of a great house," Wesley grumbled." Your mother's side, I presume?" At Draco's nod, he continued. "As heir to the Malfoy name and titles, young Draco will become the next Lord Malfoy, as will his first son. On his majority, he will also take over duties as Regent of house Black until such a time as his second son comes of age and takes the title, proper."

"So your mum is regent now?"

"Don't be silly, she's a woman," Draco scoffed while Harry cursed his lack of a tape recorder... oh, the blackmail material... "The House of Black is held in trust for me until I turn seventeen. Even as a minor, however, as Heir Regent, I still have some power in regards to members of the house, including visitation rights to imprisoned members."

"Still sounds a bit shady to me," Harry grumbled, a bit torn as to whether he wanted his friend there.

"Regardless, all of his is moot," Severus thundered, the sparks in his aura swirling angry red. "I'll have neither of you that close to Black, I forbid it."

"This is important to me," Harry reminded him softly, building up is courage for what he'd say next. "In the end, you really don't have a say in this." To Smythe, he asked, "As Heir for House Potter, do I have the same rights?"

"The Potters, while well respected and successful family, never gained House status with the Ministry," Wesley answered, crushing Harry's hopes for an instant. "The laws, however, do allow you, as Lord Black's godson, the same right."

Wincing at the feeling of betrayal that Snape was emanating, Harry pushed on. "You can't stop me visiting him," he continued, "but I need you there Severus. I need somebody there that can protect me and someone I can trust."

His emotions back under control, or at least properly shielded, Snape regarded the boy coolly. You realize, of course, Your aunt will be made aware of this decision." At Harry's pained nod, the potions master continued. "Very well, then. Provided you survive your arrival home for holidays, I will escort the two of you as well as Mr Smythe for the visit."

"Well, now that's taken care of, I have several missives to send off to the Ministry regarding our expanded visit," Wesley said as he rose. "I'll see you all in two weeks, six sharp, in the morning." Shaking hands with Snape, Harry and Draco, the solicitor made his way out, leaving tow very uncomfortable boys alone with their mentor.

"Sir, I..."

"That will be all for now, Mr Potter, Mr Malfoy, I'll see you in class, later."

Wincing at the abrupt dismissal, Harry got up and trudged out the door, followed closely by Draco. "Well," the blond said after a bit. That could have gone better."

"I know that Severus and them had a history," Harry agreed. "But I had no idea he'd be so against us just seeing him, even for an interrogation."

"Well, if he changes his mind, we still have my status as Heir Regent. We'll go in there with an Auror escort and hex it out of him."

"Speaking of that," Harry said, his mood suddenly lightening. "So your second son will be Black heir... I'd better warn Hermione when she wakes up..."

"..Shut up!" yelled Draco as he pelted off after his fleeing friend.

xXx


	15. Author's Notice

Hi all, this is to let you know that after much soul-searching, I've decided to let another author adopt Blind Faith. Thanks for reading what I have written so far, I still have tons of ideas for the fic but I just can't seem to get them on paper.

The new writer is taylor1991, I'll put her profile addy up on my profile page.

Thanks again for reading.


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